


Exploration

by kforsyth716



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-03 01:14:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 48,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kforsyth716/pseuds/kforsyth716
Summary: This began as an exploration of Will figuring out his sexuality and Hopper helping out where he can and then developed into something much longer. Lots of fluff and Will Byers torture. Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

He was walking away from school, almost free. Almost done, Will reminded himself. Almost done with another day.   
He kept his eyes on the ground, watching the tips of his dirty sneakers swing in and out of his field of vision.   
El was with him. They always walked to the pick-up area together, since one of their parents was always there to drive them home. Will used to chafe at the lack of freedom, now he only felt a dull stab in his stomach as he recognized the police chief's truck.   
"Hey, look, it's the faggot zombie boy!" Somebody, he didn't even know who this time, yelled. Will's shoulders rose, as if he could hide behind his skinny frame.   
El turned to Will, eyes narrowed.   
"Faggot? Zombie?" She asks. Will shook his head.   
"Don't worry about it. C'mon." He grabbed her hand and began jogging towards the truck. 

They're almost at the Byers house when El asked her question again. Will was almost home free. Just homework and dinner before he could crash into bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to block out all the grisly, dark visions that still resided in his head.   
"What does 'zombie' mean?" El asked, looking at Hopper.   
"Uh, what?" The police chief replied. Will sunk deeper into his seat. If Hopper found out, then he'd tell his mother and if his mother found out he was still being bullied...   
"Zombie?" El repeated.   
"It's someone who comes back from the dead. They like to eat brains." Hopper replied slowly. "They're not real, El." He added quickly and then began muttering something under his breath about Hawkins and how real was relative nowadays. Will might have smiled if El hadn't taken that moment to turn around and glare at him.   
She kept glaring as her mouth opened to ask the next question. He thought about clapping his hand over her mouth and promising to explain it himself. He could lie. Say it meant something else.  
"What does 'fag' mean?" Hopper slammed on the brakes at the same time Will buried his face in his hands, just to relieve himself from the pressure of El's enduring gaze.   
"Where in the hell-?" Hopper stuttered. Cars honked behind them and he restarted the car, now muttering about the principal and stupid teenage boys. Will couldn't agree more.   
"It means, uh, it means..."   
Will liked Hopper. He really did. He was friendly and always asked how Will was doing. But for once he wished the police chief knew when to lie.   
"It doesn't mean anything. Just drop it." Will snapped. The car hit a bump and they all jolted in their seat but El's glower only intensified.   
"Friends don't lie." She said. And Will, so used to feeling numb and cold like the  
Upside Down, devoid of anything but darkness, felt something.   
Something ugly and red and sharp in his chest that he couldn't remember ever feeling before. Dimly, he wondered if the monster had taken over again. Yet he couldn't even picture the Upside Down in this moment. He couldn't see anything but his father's face, slurring 'fag' and 'queer' together.   
"It's the same fucking thing as queer and fairy and all those other things they yell at me. It just means I fucking like boys!" Will had never intended to yell. Especially not at El, whose glare defused the moment he started and reared back, fear and confusion marring her face.   
He heaved a deep breath and he could faintly hear Hopper saying something. But then El just narrowed her eyes again.   
"So?" She asked.   
Will growled and one glance outside told him they had reached his house. He muttered a 'thank you' to Hopper and threw himself out the door.   
He made it to his room without encountering anyone and slammed his door shut. He waited to hear Hopper's boots on the floor. Or at least his deep voice whispering to his mother, as if Will couldn't hear them every single time they tried to hide it from him.   
But silence greeted him instead. He waited for hours, his angry breath eventually fading away. The sun drifted away and still no Hopper. He heard his brother and mother arrive home from work. He pretended to be asleep when Joyce knocked on his door for supper.   
Eventually he fell asleep, still watching the outline of his father's angry face overlapping with El's frightened one. 

He had managed to avoid El and the others for the whole day, claiming he needed to ask a teacher a question at lunch, claiming sick during their shared classes, and disappearing into a janitorial closet during his free period. He liked that closet. The smallness made him feel safe. There was no room for anything else to be lurking in the darkness.   
Eventually though, he knew he would have to face her. And apologize. And maybe define 'faggot' for her again and why that was so horrible.   
Upon exiting school, he sighed at the sight of Hopper's truck in line with all the other suburban moms. Shit.   
El glided into her spot next to him, but didn't say anything or even look at him. He wondered if she was angry. She looked angry.   
He sighed again. Double shit.   
They're halfway across the yard when he gathered up the energy to speak.   
"El, I'm sorry for y-"  
"Stay away from him, El, he'll turn ya queer!" A boy in a different grade yelled. El spun around, seething.  
"C'mon, El. It's okay." Will said, taking a step toward the truck. He just wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and never wake up.   
"Hey, hey, fairy boy. Your brother's a faggot too, right? Do you fuck each other at night? Is that why you look so tired all the time?" Someone laughed and Will could feel his cheeks and ears burning red. Now, El's fists were clenched and he could see the debate swirling in her head. The big rule regarding her coming out from hiding was no powers in public. And by "big" he knew if she broke it, she'd be back in the cabin forever.   
"It's not worth it. You know what'll happen." He whispered, now grabbing her hand and tugging it toward the truck. She whipped her gaze at him and he let go.   
"They'll leave you alone." She said.   
"I don't care, really. They've been doing this forever."   
"Friends don't lie." She reminded him and he could almost see the blood dripping from her nose.   
A circle of kids had surrounded them, now throwing taunts and jeers at Will.   
Eleven raised her hand.   
"El, please, d-" his plea got cut off by pain splitting the side of his head. His knees buckled and he tried to lift his hands to the spot, to see if it was bleeding. He half expected to start seeing visions or convulsing again, but the pain felt different. Vaguely, he recognized a rock covered in blood on the ground. Something else collided with his spine. And he heard El scream as suddenly a thunderstorm took over his body, everybody taking aim at the boy who had caused so much fear in town.   
He covered his head with his hands and was praying for El to keep her cool when a door slammed. El's screaming paused and only one more rock hit Will's ribs before silence reigned over the crowd.   
"What the hell is going on here?" He tried lifting his head to look at Hopper, measure how angry he was, but the world was swimming and he could only stare at the mixture of jeans and sneakers in front of him. Blood dribbled into his mouth and eyes. Tears stung his face and he bit his tongue trying to keep them at bay.   
"You better let go of her before I shoot you." Hopper added and then there was somebody by his side, prodding and poking at his face, trying to get his attention.   
"Will? Will? Are you okay?" El whispered. He couldn't quite form a response so he offered a small grin at her instead. This doesn't seem to help because she gasped. He stopped smiling and ducked behind his hands again.   
"I see any of you brats come near either of these two or their friends again, I'll have all your asses in a jail cell. Got it?" Hopper growled. He never raised his voice, but Will could sense the sudden trepidation running through the school yard. "Good. Now, scram."   
Will almost grinned to himself as he heard the pitter patter of a dozen feet scampering away. It was nice to have the Chief of Police on your side.   
Even if that meant his mom was totally going to find out about this.   
El started chattering the moment Hopper came close.   
"I couldn't do anything, I'm sorry, I couldn't do anything-"   
"I know, kid. It's okay."  
Will kept his eyes screwed shut as he heard Hopper kneel down next to him.   
"Will, can you hear me kid?" He didn't nod, wondering if he could just play dead. He focused on his breathing, the ragged in and out that sparked fire in his ribs.   
"Will, need you to answer me." Hopper prodded. So, Will nodded.   
"Kay. You think you can uncurl a little so I can pick you up?" Will shook his head, not because he couldn't, but he had to walk.   
"I can walk." He mumbled. To prove it, he lifted his spine from his lap and pushed himself into a kneeling position. The movement sent shards of glass through his head and spine. He bit his lip to keep himself from screaming and rubbed his face to clear the tears away, but he probably just smeared blood everywhere.   
"Yeah, you're the picture of mobility." Hopper muttered. Will offered a glare in response. El was still hovering, stabbing curious eyes with glares of her own.   
"Just need a minute." Will muttered through clenched teeth. Talking hurt. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. He wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. Wanted to run away from every single thing that had ever happened to him.   
Hopper gave him ten seconds before speaking.   
"Okay, kid, here's what we're gonna do. I'm going to help you up and if that goes okay, we're going to walk, together, to the truck. Alright?" Will wanted to argue, to fight for his own independence but the pain throbbing through his body told him he wouldn't make it without a little help. So, he nodded.   
Hopper lifted him to his feet easily and Will almost doubled over from pain. He tried taking a step but his vision blurred and then he was hacking up bile onto the ground, overwhelmed with nausea and agony.   
"Okay, that's enough." He heard Hopper growl and then it was almost like he was flying. The sky blended into the clouds and he caught glimpses of El, escorting them like a body guard to the truck. 

He didn't realize he blacked out until he woke up. Everything still hurt, but he could feel pressure on his ribs and something over his eye. He was lying on something soft but lumpy.   
He could hear television rumbling in the background. And Hopper.   
"Yeah, Joyce, I got him. He and El wanted to watch a movie together... yeah, okay. Ill let him know... yeah, bye." The phone clicked. Will had kept his eyes shut the whole time but somehow, something must have shifted because a small hand was tapping his shoulder.   
"You're awake." El said. He cranked his eyes open to look at her.   
She looked paler than normal and her eyes were red. Guilt surged through his stomach.  
"Yeah, I am." He replied.   
"Hopper said you'd wake up. I wasn't sure." She said. The guilt tightened.   
"Nah, I'm okay. The picture of mobility, see?" He lifted one arm and ignored the flash of pain in favor of El's watery smile.   
"Your mom says nothing R rated." Hopper walked over and plopped down on the table across from Will.   
"You didn't tell her?" Will said, hope billowing in his stomach.   
"Not yet. We gotta talk first and let you rest up a little before we let your mom in here." Hopper said, At the word "talk", El stood up and left the room. Will blinked.   
"Did you train her to do that?" He asked and Hopper laughed.   
"Maybe." He said and Will couldn't help the grin that inched across his face. Hopper nodded at Will's temple, where a bandage covered the worst of the damage.   
"Those kids do that a lot?" Will blushed. He hadn't wanted anyone, Hopper least of all, to get involved with this. So, he shook his head, hoping the other man would drop the subject.   
"But the taunting happens a lot, doesn't it?" Hopper said. Will turned his head away to face the couch. "Hey, I'm not judging or anything. Just trying to figure out what happened."   
"Nothing happened." Will managed to growl out.   
"Kid, you look like they tried to stone you because they did. So, that happened." Hopper said. Will rolled his eyes, only because he thought Hopper couldn't see.   
"I mean, nothing happened to make them pick on me. Other than disappearing and coming back and the episodes and my dad..." Will stopped.   
"Your dad?" Hopper didn't sound angry or even perturbed, but Will could sense the sudden tension in the man's body.   
"When he was drunk, he'd call me "fag" in front of everyone when he was dropping me off at school." Will muttered, hoping Hopper hadn't heard him or misheard him or something.   
"And, knowing Lonnie, he was drunk every damn day of the week." Hopper added. Now, Will could hear the anger in his voice and shrunk in on himself, wishing the couch would swallow him up.   
"I'm not mad at you, kid. It's just... your dad is kind of an asshole."  
Will laughed. Hopper sounded reluctant, as though Will hadn't figured that out eons ago.   
"Yeah." He agreed. "He is."   
Hopper shifted, letting his back sit against the couch.   
"You know the thing about assholes, right?" Hopper said. Will twisted his neck to look at him, curious. "Can't believe a damn word they say. And even if they do get something right, because statistically speaking, people who run their mouths all the time have to get something right sometime, that doesn't mean you're the one with the problem, alright?"   
Will frowned and Hopper sighed.   
"Jesus... alright. What I'm trying to say is even if you are... gay, right? It's not you who has the problem. Everybody else does." Will snorted and turned away. Hopper may be able to get away with being a lone wolf, but he had a gun and he was tall and cool so nobody would ever mess with him.   
"Hey. Look at me. I know what you're thinking, but hear me out, kid." Hopper said and Will reluctantly turned back around to glare at the police chief. "They've got the problem because if they can't get it through their head that Will Byers, gay or otherwise, is a pretty amazing kid, they gotta be the ones messed up in the head, okay?"    
Will smiled and Hopper smiled back. Will had the sudden thought that Hopper  
would make a really good dad. Like to his own kid. Not just a make-believe dad for Will. Maybe he already was for El.   
Then, he had another sudden thought. What if he was gay and his mother found out? She had always defended him to the death, but that was when he was normal. And what about Jonathan? Or his friends?   
"Hopper, what happens if-if, hypothetically, I am... gay... and Mom finds out and she kicks me out? Can I live here with you and El?"   
"'Course you could. El might make you eat Eggos everyday though." Hopper said and Will felt relief flood through his veins. At least he had a place to go, just in case. "But don't think for a second your mom is going to give up on you that easy. She's crazy, but not that crazy." The police chief added. Will smirked, remembering coming home to Christmas lights and a half destroyed house.   
Hopper got up, brushed off his knees and started walking to the kitchen. Will relaxed, content to settle into the cushions, when another question hit him.   
"Hopper?"   
"Yeah, kid?" Hopper replied, sifting through the freezer for something other than Eggos.   
"What happens if they're right?" Will asked. He watched at Hopper peaked around the corner, looking confused.   
"I already said-"   
"No, not about being gay... about being gay making you... hurt people. Cause I have hurt people before." Will said, shrinking into the cushions once more.   
He heard Hopper sigh and then walk across the room until he was standing over Will.   
"Look, kid, I don't really know where those ideas come from but they're bullshit, okay? First of all, I don't think you could hurt a mosquito even if you wanted to. And what happened with the... Mind Flayer thing doesn't count, that wasn't you. You hear me?" And somehow Will felt there was something more important going on here than he had originally meant. Hopper knew. Knew Will was a freak and a zombie and maybe gay and he knew what had happened, everything that had happened, and he still thought Will was okay. That Will was not the monster.   
Will nodded.   
"Good. Now, Eggos or pizza?"   
And from behind the shut door, El yelled, "Eggos!" 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide attempt

Months passed without incident. Hopper and El celebrated Christmas, the best one either of them had experienced in years.   
He left the bedroom, having just finished reading to El. He glanced at his watch; it was still early. El was returning to school after the holiday tomorrow and had sullenly agreed to go to bed early, but only if Hopper read an extra chapter. Compromise.   
He settled onto the couch and picked up the TV remote when the phone rang. Who the hell was calling this late at night? He was off-duty.   
Hopper picked up the phone a little tentatively.   
“Hello?” He said.   
“Hopper?” Joyce replied and Hopper’s stomach plummeted. The only reason Joyce would be calling this late at night was Will. Which meant the Upside Down and monsters and that awful lab were coming back to haunt Hopper. After El closed the Gate, he had hoped they were finished with the supernatural and whatever the hell else was beneath their feet.   
Apparently not.  
“Yeah, what’s going on?” Hopper said.   
“It’s Will. He’s…just can you come over? Now?” She said, voice trembling.   
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” He confirmed. 

Joyce was waiting for him on the porch when he pulled up. She beckoned him inside without a word. The house seemed strangely normal. Dishes were drying in the dish rack. The TV hummed in the background. He couldn’t see Jonathan or Will, but there didn’t appear to be any blood or monsters or even holes in the wall.   
“Joyce, what’s going on? Where’s Will?” He said, half wondering if this was some sort of weird prank. But Joyce twisted her hands together and refused to look him in the eye.   
“In his room, but you can’t go in.” She said. Hopper frowned and pushed past her to walk down the hallway. He spotted Jonathan at the end of the hall, sitting on the floor, face in his hands. He looked up as Hopper’s footsteps approached.   
“Hopper? Did Mom call you?” He said, his eyes snapping around Hopper to glare at his mother. “Will said no police.” He growled and scrambled to his feet when Hopper neared Will’s bedroom.   
“Kid, I’m just here to help.” Hopper said but Jonathan shook his head.   
“Will said-.”  
“I know what Will said but we can’t just sit here and wait for him to…” Joyce said and, for the first time, let out a small sob.   
“To what?” Hopper said. “What the hell is going on?” He offered his best glare to Jonathan and then Joyce. He needed to know what he was up against if he was going to be of any use.   
“He has a gun.” Joyce said as if that explained everything. A gun? As far as Hopper knew, Will had no idea how to even use a gun, never mind want one in his hands.   
“Why?” Hopper said and Joyce sobbed again, hands going to her mouth to stifle the sound. Hopper turned to Jonathan who sighed.   
“Why do you think? He wants to kill himself.” Jonathan said with an edge in his voice. Jonathan had never liked Hopper, not in the same way Will did anyway.   
Hopper blinked. Kill himself? This was not what he had imagined on the drive over here. Monsters? Yes. Will being possessed again? Sure. But a suicidal kid? Not so much.   
He thought back to the last time he had seen Will. The Wheeler’s had hosted Christmas dinner and he had barely seen Will in between the pleasantries, dinner, and present exchanges between the kids. What he had seen, a blank stare and tiny smiles, suddenly made a lot more sense. The kid had always been quiet, but maybe he had somehow gotten quieter and no one noticed?  
“He say why?” Hopper said.   
Jonathan shook his head before replying. “All he’ll say is he’ll kill himself if we go into his room or call the police. Which is why you need to leave before he hears you.”   
Hopper resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the angry teen. Unless Jonathan had somehow developed experience talking down suicidal people overnight, Hopper was the best person Joyce could have called. Besides an actual therapist.   
He pushed Jonathan to the side.   
“Hopper, stop!” The kid growled and grabbed the back of Hopper’s coat.   
“Will? It’s Hopper. Can I come in?” Hopper called. Jonathan froze behind him and Hopper tugged himself free of his grip and approached the bedroom.   
Normal, he thought. A mixture of t-shirts and jeans strewn across the floor. Drawings littered the walls, portraying everything from dragons to the Demogorgons to Bob the Brain. His eye caught on a drawing on the floor near the door with crayons surrounding it. Like Will had just been working on it.  
A headstone reading ‘R.I.P. Zombie Boy’ stared back at him and Hopper frowned. Will hadn’t mentioned anyone bullying him and the kids seemed to leave him alone when he walked to Hopper’s truck in the afternoon.   
The only thing missing from the room was Will himself.   
“Will?” Hopper said, wondering if the kid was lying on the floor on the other side of the bed.   
“Go away, Hopper, or else.” Will’s voice leaked out the closet in the left-hand corner, near the doorway. His voice didn’t tremble or squeak. He sounded calm. Unnaturally calm like he had made a decision and was just waiting to execute it.   
“Can’t do that, Will. Need to make sure you’re okay first.” He replied.   
“Go away or I shoot.” Will said.   
“How about we talk first? Just for a couple minutes.” Hopper said and held his breath for Will’s response. He had done this before, with kids even, but never someone he knew personally. He had been invested obviously, but not as much as in this moment. He liked Will and more importantly, El liked Will and Hopper was not about to let one of her friends kill himself on Hopper’s watch.   
“Five minutes.” Will agreed. Jesus. Hopper glanced at his watch and prayed Will didn’t have one.   
“Okay. I’m coming in.” Hopper said and waited for a moment before stepping over the headstone drawing, closing the door behind him, and plopping down on the floor across from the closet. His back protested the movement and Hopper couldn’t help but think he was getting too old for this kind of shit.   
The closet door was cracked open but Hopper couldn’t see anything other than darkness.   
“What’s going on, kid?” He said.   
“Nothing.”   
Hopper snorted. Typical Will.   
“Then why don’t you give me the gun and stop scaring your mom to death?” He said. Silence greeted him. “Okay, let’s try this again. What’s going on, Will?”   
This time, a sigh escaped the closet.   
“Go away, Hopper.” He said but Hopper shook his head.   
“No, you agreed. Five minutes of talking. So, talk.”   
Another sigh. “I don’t know what to say.” This time Will’s voice sounded small, not trembling, but small. Quiet.   
“How about we start with where you got the gun?” Hoppe replied.   
“Found it.” Will muttered.   
“You found it?” Hopper echoed. Maybe it was the rifle in the Byers’ shed?   
“In my locker.” Will added and Hopper felt something in his chest shift and his fists clenched.   
“Someone put a gun in your locker?” Hopper clarified.   
“With this.” A crumpled ball of paper rolled out of the closet and Hopper caught a glimpse of pale fingers before they retreated back into the darkness. Hopper unwrapped the paper and cursed.   
Scrawled in messy but discernible handwriting, someone had written ‘Go kill yourself, fag’ in large, bright red letters with a stick figure drawing of someone, presumably Will, blowing their heads off.   
Christ.   
He crumpled the paper back up and slipped it in his pocket for later investigation.   
“Will, I know that sucks, but it’s not a reason to end your life.” Hopper said.   
A snort emanated from the closet.   
“What do you know? You never got picked on.” Will snapped. It was true; Will was small for his age and quiet in a way Hopper had never been. He was an easy target.   
“True, but…” Hopper glanced at the door to make it was shut and only Will could hear him. “I’ve been where you are and I know it’s not fun.” There had been some dark moments after Sara.   
Silence, but no smart retort so Hopper took a deep breath and continued. “But I got out of it. And you will too.”   
“No, I won’t. I’m sick of feeling like this. I just want it over with.” Will said in another steady, but small voice. Hopper’s gut twisted. Still unnaturally calm for someone about to die.  
“Feeling like what, Will?”   
Now, Will’s voice darkened and held a menacing tone Hopper had never heard out of the kid’s mouth before, except maybe when he screamed at El in the truck that one time.   
“Numb. Like nothing matters and nothing will ever matter again.”  
“Okay, but what about your mom? And Jonathan? And your friends? They’d be pretty upset if you went through with this.” It was a cliché argument and it didn’t always work, but sometimes, reminding someone they weren’t alone was all it took to get them to climb down from the edge.   
“They’d be okay. They don’t need me.” Will said in that calm tone that made Hopper itch to rip the closet door open and wrestle the gun from Will’s hands. He opened his mouth to argue that when Will disappeared, they had definitely been upset, when Will’s voice leaked out of the closet, calm and glassy like a lake without any waves.  
“Time’s up.” Will said and Hopper cursed, glancing down at his own watch. Five minutes had indeed passed. The kid did have a watch then.   
“Bye Hopper.” Will murmured and Hopper heard the click of the safety turning off. He jumped to his feet, heart pounding, caught between talking and action. He needed to get that gun away from Will.   
“You don’t want to do this, kid.” Hopper said, inching toward the closet door as quietly as he could.   
“You don’t know what I want.” Will replied, still calm.   
“Okay, then why don’t you tell me?” Hopper said, only a little over an arm’s length away from reaching the doorknob.   
“To be left alone.” Will replied and before Hopper could respond or think or do anything other than keep creeping forward, the gun went off with a bellow. Hopper flinched away. Distantly, he heard Joyce scream in the hallway, but the sound was muffled behind the tremendous roar of Hopper’s own heart. He stared at the closet door, waiting for blood to leak out from beneath it. When nothing happened, he inched the rest of the way forward, gripped the doorknob with a trembling hand, took a deep breath to steel himself against the sight of Will, dead, with half his head splattered across the wall, and opened the door.   
Will didn’t even glance up. He was too busy staring at the end of the gun, finger still on the trigger, gun aimed just over his shoulder at a hole in the wall. Hopper’s head dropped in relief and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in.  
Christ.   
Without waiting for Will to fully realize what he had done, Hopper plucked the gun out of the kid’s hand. Just then, the door to Will’s bedroom burst open and Joyce ran in, Jonathan trying to get her to stay back.   
“Mom, you don’t need to see-.”  
“He’s my son, Jonathan!” She shrieked over her shoulder. She looked at Hopper who must have been pale and horrified because her whole body collapsed, hands going to her mouth to stifle a scream.   
“He’s okay.” Hopper heard himself say, eyes flicking back to where Will sat on the closet floor, looking slightly confused as to why he could still breathe.   
“Oh my god…” Joyce crawled past Hopper and snagged Will in a tight hug. “Oh, my baby…” Suddenly, she leaned back, grabbed Will by the shoulders, and started shaking him. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again? You hear me?” She said, shaking harder and harder until Will’s head started snapping back and forth.   
Hopper grabbed Joyce’s arms and pulled her off Will who still sat, stunned and silent. Joyce sobbed and Hopper tried to calm her down, eyes on Will’s silent form. Eventually, Will stood up, his face almost serene, and walked across the hall to the bathroom. Hopper heard retching sounds a minute later.   
Joyce stood up, wiped her face, and smiled a little at Hopper.   
“Sorry.” She said. He shrugged. “Thanks for coming by.”   
He shrugged again, his stomach swirling.   
“Didn’t seem to do much.” He replied in a gruff voice.   
“He’s alive.” Joyce said and Hopper decided not to argue.  
“He needs to go to a hospital or something.” He said instead. Joyce opened her mouth to respond but Will’s voice sliced across the room.   
“No hospital.” He said and moved to climb into his bed.   
“No, no, no. You don’t just get to go to sleep, young man. Not after what you just pulled. You need to explain yourself.” Joyce said, but Hopper could see the dark circles under Will’s eyes and the way his knees trembled.   
“No, I don’t.” Will said in a sharp tone Hopper didn’t think he had ever heard come from the kid before. Will was polite, quiet. This Will was angry and exhausted.   
“Yes, you do. Living room, now.” Joyce snapped back and moved to grab Will’s arm. He twisted away at the last second and scrambled across the bed so he was on the opposite side of the room.  
“I’m not going to tell you anything.” Will snapped, spitting out the last word like a swear.   
“You just tried to kill yourself, Will. I deserve an explanation.” Joyce said.  
“No, actually, you don’t.” Will said and crossed his arms over his chest. He gave Joyce some sort of knowing look Hopper couldn’t decipher and her face turned red, but she didn’t say anything.   
“Alright, alright. Will, you go to bed and you stay there, alright? No trying anything.” Hopper said and, to his relief, Will nodded. Joyce rounded on Hopper but he held a hand. “Kid’s exhausted. Not going to get anything out of him tonight.” He explained. Joyce huffed and stalked away.   
“We’re talking about this tomorrow.” He said to Will who mimicked his mother’s huff perfectly and began climbing into bed. Hopper glanced around the room for anything sharp, didn’t find anything, and followed Joyce, closing the door behind him gently.  
Joyce was waiting for him in the kitchen, pouring herself a drink. Jonathan had disappeared but Hopper could hear music blasting from somewhere.   
“What the hell, Hopper?” She said and handed him the glass.   
He downed it in one gulp and shook his head when Joyce offered him more. The alcohol calmed his nerves, but he still felt jittery. Like he had been the one to just dodge a bullet instead of Will.   
“He’s exhausted.” Hopper said before digging the piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to Joyce. “He said he found this and a gun in his locker.”   
Joyce unfurled the paper, gasped, and then downed her drink in one gulp before pouring herself another large glass. “I’m going to kill them.” She muttered.   
“You know who did this?” Hopper said.   
“No, but I would assume it’s Troy or one of his stupid friends. Don’t know where the hell they got a gun.” She said, her fingers fumbling around the bottle. Hopper poured her drink himself.   
“I’ll run the license number and see if that brings up anything.” He said. Joyce nodded, downed her third drink in five minutes, and handed the paper back to Hopper.   
“You find the little bastards and I’ll kill them.” She said and Hopper offered a small smile as she moved to pour another drink. Except she filled the glass almost to the top with whiskey and he couldn’t help but frown a little as she moved to chug the whole thing. Her kid had just tried to shoot himself, Hopper thought. Exactly, said a tiny voice in the back of his head.   
“Joyce, stop.” He said and tried to take the glass from her but she held up a finger and kept gulping down the amber liquid. “Joyce, you’re going to pass out.”   
She kept going and he thought about making another grab. But it wasn’t like he had been sober after Sara died, so he let it slide.   
Except Will didn’t die, that same voice whispered.  
Joyce finished with one last massive gulp and slammed the glass down on the counter. He could have been making it up but he could have sworn he heard a yelp emanating from Will’s bedroom at the noise.   
“That’s the point, Hop.” She said, her words already slurring. She stumbled toward the couch, leaning heavily on the wall. Hopper rolled his eyes and helped her to the couch where she sat down and fumbled for the TV remote, muttering to herself. Hopper glanced around the room. He couldn’t exactly leave Jonathan and Will here with their wasted mother after what happened. What if Will tried something again?   
“Shit.” He murmured and grabbed the phone to call El.   
“Hello?” She picked up with a yawn.   
“Hey, kid. Sorry to wake you. I had to run over to the Byers.” Hopper said and he could feel her glare intensifying.   
“Will?” She said and Hopper swallowed.   
“Yeah, he’s not feeling great and neither is Joyce so she called me to help out with Will.” Not exactly a lie, Hopper thought. Just omission. He didn’t think Will wanted all of his friends to know he tried to kill himself. “So, I’m going to be here until tomorrow, okay? Just to make sure Will’s okay. I’ll have Jonathan pick you up tomorrow.”   
Silence greeted him and he could picture El sifting through his words, trying to decipher what was really going on.   
“Okay.” She said simply and hung up without another word. They needed to work on goodbyes, Hopper thought before returning to the living room.   
Joyce stared at the TV, still muttering to herself. He couldn’t make out much, just a couple of slurred words. Will’s name, Bob’s name, the Upside Down, lots of swearing. Hopper decided to take pity on her; she had just lost her boyfriend mere months ago to monsters and almost lost her son to himself tonight. He helped her stand up, guiding her to her bedroom. She stumbled the rest of the way to her bed and crashed on top of the blankets. Hopper smirked. She was going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, he thought.   
Not ideal for dealing with her suicidal son. Same tiny, nasty voice. Hopper shook his head. Woman had been to hell and back, she deserved a drink. Or ten.   
He went back to the living room and settled himself on the couch, eyes closed, listening to the TV and the silence that settled around the house.   
Almost peaceful.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of suicide, child abuse

The following morning was anything but peaceful. Joyce didn’t wake up in time to see Jonathan off to school so Hopper had to argue with the kid that he had to go to class.   
“I need you to pick up El, okay?” Hopper said and Jonathan shook his head.   
“Why don’t you go pick her up?” He snapped. “She’s your kid and Will isn’t.”   
Hopper opened his mouth to point out that Will’s only available parent was unconscious in the bedroom, but decided against it.   
“I’m here to support your mom, okay?” He said. Jonathan snorted, casting a glare down the hall at his mother’s door. It was uncomfortably similar to the knowing look Will had thrown at his mother last night to make Joyce go away.   
“She’s got whiskey to do that for her.” Jonathan muttered, snagged his backpack from the ground, and slammed the door behind him.  
Hopper ignored the gnawing feeling in his stomach that something wasn’t right at the Byers house. Something unfortunately normal.   
Will stumbled into the kitchen just as Hopper finished making pancakes. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, and slumped into a chair. Hopper smirked to himself. Typical kid.   
“Pancakes?” He offered and Will nodded.   
Hopper threw a towel over the plate of pancakes to keep them warm for Joyce and sat down in the chair across from Will, who was mostly poking at the pieces of pancake he had cut up.   
Hopper didn’t really blame him. He’d be nauseous too.   
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Hopper said and Will just shrugged. “Will, I said we would talk today. It’s today.” Hopper added, ignoring the glare Will sent his way.   
“Where’s Mom?” He said, dropping his head back toward his pancakes.   
“Asleep.” Hopper said and Will snorted. “That funny to you?”   
Will shook his head silently.   
“You really scared her last night.” Hopper continued. Will shrugged and Hopper felt his fists clench. Kid didn’t seem to care. “She’s been through a lot the past couple of years and she can’t handle you…dying.”   
Will snorted again but kept his gaze on his pancakes. “She can’t handle a lot of things.” He said.   
Hopper’s jaw clenched. He knew Joyce wasn’t perfect as a person or a mom, but this sort of attitude seemed downright ungrateful. The woman would die for her kids and Will knew that.   
“Look, kid, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but you need to apologize to her.” Hopper said, letting a touch of anger seep into his voice. “And promise not to do it again.” He added when Will didn’t respond.   
Will muttered something into his plate Hopper couldn’t hear and wasn’t sure he wanted to hear, so he let it pass and started working on his own stack of pancakes. Will kept poking at his pancakes and Hopper was about to tell him to take a goddamn bite when Joyce stumbled into the kitchen, hand on her head.   
“Morning, Joyce.” Hopper said.   
“Advil.” She replied. “Need Advil.”   
Will stood up, rummaged through a drawer for a moment, and handed his mother two pills and a glass of water. He returned to his seat wordlessly, just nodding his head when Joyce mumbled a ‘thank you’.  
“How are you feeling?” Hopper said once Joyce collapsed into a chair.   
She moaned, hands over her face. “I hate alcohol.” She said.   
Hopper smirked and decided not to offer her any pancakes. Will, on the other hand, muttered something into his lap again and his mother picked up on it.   
“What did you say, young man?” She snapped.   
“Nothing.” Will said and finally stuffed a bite of pancake into his mouth.  
“No, you said something.” Joyce said.   
Will swallowed, his own jaw tightening. “I said maybe you shouldn’t drink so much then.”   
Hopper stared. He had never heard Will sound so impertinent. Or angry. He opened his mouth to chastise the kid, maybe make him apologize to his mom twice, when Joyce stood up and chucked her glass at the wall over Will’s head. Hopper flinched.   
The glass missed by about five feet, but that tiny voice in the back of Hopper’s head wondered if that was intentional. She wasn’t drunk, he reassured himself, so she must have been aiming.   
Will didn’t even flinch at the shattering glass behind him. He just glared at his mother. Joyce glared back for a moment before throwing a glance at Hopper who couldn’t help but stare in return.   
“I’m going back to bed.” She huffed and started stumbling back down the hallway. Hopper turned to Will, maybe for an explanation, maybe to yell at him, maybe to just ask what in the hell was going on in the Byers house, but Will was already on the floor, kneeling down in the middle of the glass to pick up the biggest shards. Barefoot.   
Hopper rushed around to the other side of the table and lifted Will off the floor, glass crunching under his boots.   
“What the hell, Hopper?” Will said, trying to twist around so he could look at the older man.   
“You can’t pick up glass without shoes on, kid.” He replied and set Will down on a chair to inspect his feet. Blood trickle out of a gash on his left foot.   
Shit.   
“Stay there.” He told Will and went to rummage around the cabinets for the first aid kit.   
“In the drawer, next to the sink.” Will said, sounding exhausted. He sounded old, Hopper couldn’t help but think.   
He opened the cluttered drawer next to the sink, found the black bag marked with a red cross, and opened it.   
Tweezers, scissors, and a lonely band aid stared back at him.   
“You guys hold a war in here and forget to resupply the first aid kit after?” He said. Will shook his head and muttered something about Demogorgons. Fair point.   
Hopper opened the cabinet containing the alcohol and couldn’t help but notice most of the bottles were either empty or almost there. She must not have bought some in awhile, he thought. He dug out the bottle with the highest alcohol content and sat across from Will.   
After he picked out all the glass and dumped a bunch of alcohol on the wound, he looked up Will’s pinched face. He was clutching the edge of the chair in a white knuckled grip. Probably hurt, Hopper thought.   
“You okay, kid?” He said. Will nodded. Once he finished dressing the wound, he sent Will to do the dishes and started sweeping up all the glass shards himself. “Your mom… she wasn’t aiming for you.” Hopper said and hated the lack of surety in his voice. Will didn’t snort at him though.   
“I know. She loves me.” He said, almost sounding like a recording.   
“Yeah, she does.” Hopper almost brought up the idea of apologizing for last night again, but thought better of it. Hopefully, it would come up when Joyce apologized for throwing the glass. He still couldn’t believe she had done that. Had Joyce slapped a few people in her time? Yes, Hopper included. But had she ever done anything even remotely close to violent to her children? Never.   
Until today, he thought glancing at Will. Extraordinary circumstances.   
After they finished cleaning, Will wandered out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room. Hopper followed.   
“Leave me alone.” Will said, but not in an angry tone. Just exhausted. He sat himself on the ground, picked up an abandoned crayon and continued working on the Zombie Boy headstone. Hopper watched as he drew a bouquet of dead flowers at the base. The kid was good, he thought distantly.   
“Will, we still need to talk about last night.” He said. Will didn’t look up from his drawing.   
“Why do you care? You’re not my mom.” He said. Hopper sighed and tried to think of a good explanation that didn’t involve Joyce being hungover.   
“Your mom’s a little angry with you, right now. So, you can either talk to her later or me now.”  
Will didn’t even hesitate. “Her later.” He said. Hopper couldn’t really blame him. Joyce was his mother and Hopper just picked him up from school sometimes. Still, Will hadn’t wanted to talk to her last night.   
“Okay…can I ask why?” Hopper said.   
“She won’t ask.” Will replied and filled in a brown petal. Hopper frowned.   
“Of course, she will. She might be angry right now, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.” Hopper said.   
Will nodded. “I know. But she never asks questions anymore.” He paused in his coloring, realizing he had just said something he shouldn’t. “Never mind. Just a bad joke.” He rushed to say before Hopper could respond.   
Hopper almost nodded. He knew Joyce. She was incessant with her questions for her boys.   
“You got something you’d like to share, kid?” Hopper said.   
Will shook his head.   
“You sure?”   
“Yup.”   
“Cause I’m not big into judging people, especially not your mom. She’s a good person.” Hopper said and Will paused again, now fiddling with his crayon.   
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” Will said after a moment of silence. It couldn’t be that bad, Hopper reasoned, this was Joyce they were talking. Woman could have won Mother of the Year hands down.   
“Yeah, sure.” He said.   
“She… she’s not herself anymore.” Will admitted, staring intently at his crayon now.   
Hopper almost laughed. He had been worried about it being something serious.   
“Your mom has been through a lot, Will. Some things are bound to change.” He said and, to his relief, Will just nodded.   
Hopper checked his watch. Flo was going to kill him.   
“Okay, kid. I have to go. You going to be okay if I leave you?” Hopper said. Will nodded.   
“Bye Hopper.” He said and Hopper couldn’t help but flash back to the previous night.   
“I’ll see you later, kid. Call me if you need anything.” He said and left, refusing to glance through Joyce’s open door on the way out. She would talk to the kid, he thought. It was Joyce after all. 

He tried calling the next morning to see how the conversation went. Nobody picked up. But then El came home from school and he spotted Will in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s car. Kid stared out the window, but seemed fine.   
When he called the next morning after he dropped El off at school and nobody answered, he thought about going over there. Just to check things out.   
He shook his head. If Joyce needed him, she’d call.   
The rest of the week passed uneventfully. Hopper picked Will and El up on Thursday and tried to engage Will in conversation, but the kid just shrugged or answered in single words. Things weren’t going to get better overnight, Hopper thought.   
After finishing a movie with El on Friday and tucking her in, he sat on the couch, book in hand, music playing softly in the background.   
He was just about to nod off to sleep when he heard the locks slide open. He leapt to his feet, wishing he had left his gun on his belt, and spun around.   
“Christ, El. What the hell are doing?” He said. His daughter froze, coat on, radio in hand, and glanced over her shoulder.   
“Mike needs me.” She explained. Hopper raised an eyebrow and glanced at his watch. 2:03am.   
“Mike needs you at 2 in the morning?” He said. El didn’t even blink.   
“Yeah.” She said and started to open the door. Hopper thought about stopping her, but knew that would just cause more problems, so he sighed and grabbed his coat.   
“I’m driving you then.” No way was he letting his thirteen-year-old daughter go see some boy in the middle of the night by herself. She shrugged in response. 

They pulled up in front of the Wheeler’s house a few minutes later.   
“What exactly does Mike need you for?” Hopper asked, eyeing the completely dark house.   
“Can’t tell.” El said. He turned to his daughter and glared. She rolled her eyes. “It’s a secret.” She explained.   
“Yeah, okay. You’re meeting up with your boyfriend in the middle of the night to do unknown activities? No way, kid.” Hopper growled and moved to put the car in drive.   
“Will.” El said and Hopper’s hand froze. El wasn’t looking at him and her fingers entangled themselves in the bottom of her shirt.   
“What about Will?” Hopper said. It could be anything, he thought, the Upside Down, flashbacks, a Demogorgon attack... or Joyce.   
“I don’t know. Mike said to meet him and Will in the basement ASAP.” She said. Hopper growled to himself about teenagers and their secrets but got out of the car.   
“You can’t come.” El said, jogging to keep up with him as Hopper walked toward the front door. “And you definitely can’t ring the doorbell.” She added. Hopper stopped and turned to glare at her.  
“Why the hell not? Do the Wheeler’s know you and Will are here?” Judging from El’s look, the answer was no.   
Christ.   
Hopper heaved a sigh.   
“Okay, here’s the deal. Either I let the Wheeler’s know what’s going on in their own house or you take me to the basement.” He said. El glared, opened her mouth to argue, then shut it.   
“Compromise.” She muttered and nodded, waving him to the side of the house.   
Light spilled onto the grass from a door sunk into the back of the house, presumably leading to the basement. He couldn’t see inside, but he did spot Will’s bike, abandoned in the wet grass.   
El opened the door for him and the first thing he saw was Will, sitting on the ground, covered in blood.   
“Christ. What happened?” Hopper said. Mike, who had been trying to wipe some of the blood off Will’s face with a wet towel, spun around.   
“El! This is a top-secret mission!” He said and El shrugged.   
“He caught me trying to sneak out.” She said, her eyes fixated on Will. Hopper walked forward, trying to get a better look at the kid.   
Grass clung to the bottom of his bare feet. His hands trembled as they pressed the washcloth into his eye. The right side of his face was slick with blood, dripping onto his pajama pants. He refused to look at Hopper, but Hopper couldn’t tell if that was because he didn’t want to or because of the washcloth he was pressing into his right eye, which already had blood seeping through it.   
“Will, what happened?” He said.   
“Nothing.” Will said, still not looking at him.   
“Okay, then what happened to your head?” Hopper continued.   
“I tripped.” He said.   
“You tripped?” Hopper echoed  
“Uh-huh. Down the stairs.” Will replied and glanced up at Hopper and then looked away once he realized Hopper wasn’t buying it.   
“There aren’t any stairs in your house, Will.” Hopper pointed out and Will flinched. Mike rounded on Hopper, his hands covered with his best friend’s blood.   
“He doesn’t want to tell you, okay?” He snapped. Hopper’s fists clenched.   
“Well, his face is covered in blood, it looks like he’s about to lose an eye, and unless you’re a doctor at thirteen, somebody better tell me what happened or I’m going to call an ambulance.” He growled back and Mike’s face turned red but he didn’t respond. Hopper would probably end up calling an ambulance anyway, judging from the amount of blood Will had lost, but he needed to find out what happened first. He could feel El’s stare piercing the back of his head, but he ignored it.  
“Well?” He said. Mike sighed and glanced at Will who was shaking his head emphatically.   
“Will…Will showed up at my window like this about two hours ago.” Mike admitted and Will punched him in the arm but Mike continued. “So, I radioed El and said to meet me and Will in the basement. Alone.” He finished by offering a glare at Hopper.   
Hopper rubbed a hand over his face. He was too tired and too old for this shit.   
“Okay. Will, what happened to your face?” He said, kneeling down so he could look the kid in the eye.   
Will bit his lip and Hopper’s stomach twisted when he spotted blood outlining the kid’s teeth.   
“You can’t tell anyone.” Will said. Hopper nodded, figuring he could agree with the kid’s statement without actually binding himself to anything. Besides, a kid was bleeding. He should have already called an ambulance. Will took a deep breath and stared at a hole in his jeans.   
“I was asleep and I heard Jonathan and Mom arguing. Something about work. I think she got fired or something.” Will said. Shit. Joyce needed that job.   
“You know why?” Will shook his head before continuing.   
“She said… she said some mean stuff to Jonathan, so then I started yelling at her. Eventually, she got really mad and… and then I rode my bike over here.” Will bit his lip again and fell silent, but Hopper already knew what he was going to say. The sound of a glass shattering against a wall echoed in his ears. Distantly, he wondered if the sound changed when glass shattered against flesh.   
“What did she throw?” Hopper asked, not sure if he really wanted to know.   
“Just a glass.” Will said. Just a glass. “She was drunk.” He added as if that made things okay.   
Christ.   
“Okay, let me see the damage.” Hopper said and Mike lifted up the towel he had been pressing to Will’s head.   
A large bruise had already blossomed across the kid’s skin. And blood gushed from several large gashes extending down to his eye. Gently, he pulled Will’s hand away from his eye and almost vomited.   
He couldn’t see the eye itself but cuts all along Will’s eyelid sparkled with shards of glass.  
Shit.   
He set Will’s trembling hand back in place and leaned back into his heels. He had to take the kid into the hospital. He just didn’t know if he could do it without the kid hurting himself trying to get away from Hopper and if he could come up with a decent enough lie to keep Joyce from being imprisoned.   
Why he was trying to protect Joyce after she smashed a glass into her kid’s eye, he didn’t know. But he needed to talk to her before he made any decisions and that would have to wait till morning.   
At that moment, the door to the basement opened and Nancy stuck her head in.  
“Jonathan called, looking for Will…oh my god, is he okay?” She said and careened down the steps to inspect Will’s face. “What happened?” She asked and no one responded.   
“I gotta take him in to the ER. Can you tell Jonathan Will’s with me and he should come crash on your couch for the night?” Hopper said, ignoring the murderous look Mike threw him while Nancy nodded and rushed back upstairs.   
“You agreed not to tell anyone!” He said. “Friends don’t lie!”   
“Yeah, and friends also don’t let their friends bleed to death in their basement.” Hopper replied, effectively shutting Mike up. He looked over at El who just stared back, her eyebrows furrowed like she didn’t quite understand what happened. Hopper couldn’t have agreed more.   
“You stay here, sleep in Nancy’s room. And no funny business while I’m gone.” He said, throwing a glare at Mike who just blushed.   
“I’m coming with.” El said.   
“It’s going to take awhile, kid, and you have school tomorrow. I’ll come by in the morning and drive you guys to school, give you an update on Will.”   
“Compromise.” El said after a moment and he nodded his thanks. Then, he turned to Will who had turned a pale green color and was shaking his head.   
“No hospital.” He said.   
“Will, someone needs to look at that eye.” Hopper reasoned, but Will just shook his head and tried to scramble to his feet. He made it, stood for about half a second, eyes shifting around the room, and then toppled over. He would have hit the ground except Hopper grabbed him at the last second. “Yeah, you’re totally fine, kid.” He muttered. Will’s shoulders started shaking and Hopper closed his eyes for a second to curse Joyce Byers before kneeling down so he could look Will in the eye.   
“Look, I’m not going to tell them what happened, okay? We’ll say you and Jonathan thought it would be a brilliant idea to play catch with a glass late at night and it hit you in the face.” Will made a face at him like Hopper was crazy. “The crazier the story, the more likely they’ll believe it. To a point.” Hopper said with a shrug. He had lied about his reasons for going to the ER enough times to know. Will just nodded.   
Hopper helped Will walk up the stairs and past his bike. About halfway to the truck, Will’s knees buckled and he tumbled forward.   
“Will, you okay?” Hopper said. Joyce would kill him if he let her son die. Not if he killed her first though.   
Will nodded but didn’t move to get back up.   
“Dizzy.” He said. Hopper sighed and made a quick decision. He picked Will up, the kid was too light for his age, and carried him to the truck. Will tried protesting but he couldn’t get the words out right, so he stopped trying.   
Hopper waited until they were off the Wheeler’s street to put his lights on. He didn’t need to wake up the whole town with a siren, but he also needed an excuse to pull up in the emergency lane.   
By the time they arrived at the hospital, Will had stopped responding to Hopper’s questions, but would twitch his hand whenever Hopper said his name, so he knew he wasn’t dead.   
Hopper jumped out of the truck and scrambled to the other side. “Need some help out here!” He yelled at the open door and nurses scrambled to get outside.   
By the time he picked Will up and turned around, there was a gurney waiting for him.   
“His name is Will Byers. Got hit in the face with a glass around midnight.” Hopper said, jogging to keep up as they started to wheel Will away.   
“Okay, Will, can you hear me?” A blond nurse said, flashing a light into the kid’s visible eye. He didn’t respond but clung tighter to the washcloth covering his other eye when someone tried to remove it.   
“Will, it’s okay, let go of the washcloth.” Hopper said in the calmest voice he could manage while staring at Joyce’s kid, too small on a gurney, soaked in blood. Will complied and Hopper had to look away. He didn’t want to think about the repercussions of the glass sparkling in Will’s eye.   
He stayed close, watching them clean and stitch the wounds on his forehead and answering questions when Will couldn’t or didn’t appear to want to.  
“Will, we need to talk to your parents. Can you tell me their number?” Someone asked and Will shook his head so Hopper sighed and listed it off. Will tried to turn to glare at him, but a nurse held his held still so he could only glower out of the corner of his eye. Hopper ignored him. The same nurse reappeared a moment later and said no one had picked up. Hopper pretended not to notice the way Will’s muscles relaxed when he found out his mother wasn’t coming.   
“Does he need surgery or something?” Hopper said, not sure if he really wanted to know.   
Thankfully, the nurse shook her head. “No, the doctor doesn’t think so. It appears the glass hit him when he had his eyes closed and nothing pierced through the eyelid. He’ll have to keep his eyes closed to let it heal, but he should be able to see fine. We’re just required by law to get ahold of a minor’s parents when they come in.” She explained and Hopper let out a sigh of relief. So, Joyce hadn’t permanently disabled her son. He didn’t think he would ever be able to forgive her for that. Wasn’t sure he could forgive her even with Will’s eyesight intact.   
Predictably, Jonathan appeared about an hour later while Will and Hopper waited for a doctor in a room. Hopper stepped back to let Jonathan hug his little brother. Will clung to Jonathan like a lifeline and didn’t let go until his wobbly knees threatened to give out. Hopper waited until Jonathan helped Will settle back into his bed to wave the older teen over to the far corner of the room. He could see Will staring at them through one half-closed eye and kept his voice as quiet as he could.   
“What happened?” He half-growled. Jonathan scowled.   
“None of your business.” He said and turned to walk away. Hopper grabbed his arm and spun him back around.   
“It became my business the moment he got hit in the face with that glass. Now, talk.” Hopper let the anger thrumming against his ribs at Joyce leak into his voice a little so Jonathan stared at his shoes.   
“She was home from work when we got back from school, drunk and ranting at the TV. Will and I hung out in his room, waiting for her to fall asleep so we could get dinner, but she didn’t. She just kept ranting and throwing shit in the kitchen.” Hopper almost flinched because he could picture Joyce, stumbling and chucking a glass against the wall. How had he not said anything before? He nodded for Jonathan to continue. “She got quiet after Will fell asleep, so I tried sneaking into my room, but she saw me and started yelling.”   
“What was she upset about?” Hopper said. Jonathan shuffled his feet before throwing a glance at his brother.   
“She was blaming him for Bob.”   
Shit.   
Jonathan hurried to explain. “She was drunk, she doesn’t really blame him.”   
Hopper held up a hand. “I know, kid, I know. I just…” He couldn’t explain his anger. Partially aimed at Joyce, partially aimed at himself for not intervening sooner, and partially at the universe for taking one of the few good people he knew and twisting them until they broke.   
“Anyway, we started fighting. Turned out she got fired for showing up late again. And then Will showed up and he got involved. He-he was so mad… he said something about Mom acting like our dad and that’s when she threw the glass at him. I don’t think she meant to hit him. And then I tried to help him, but he ran out the back door and Mom disappeared into her room with a bottle. And you know the rest.” Jonathan finished. He sounded almost as exhausted as Will did.   
Hopper clapped a hand to his shoulder and thanked him for sharing. Jonathan just nodded and collapsed into the chair next to Will’s bed.   
Hopper glanced out the window. The sun had just started peeking out over the horizon. He probably had about an hour and a half before he had to be at the Wheeler’s to pick El and Mike up. That gave him plenty of time to start a fight with Joyce.


	4. Chapter 4

The house was silent when he entered, not bothering to knock. Glass and trinkets littered the floor. He could see plates shattered on the ground in the kitchen. And a small pool of blood where Will must have been standing.   
“What the hell are you doing here, Hopper?” Joyce slurred from the couch. Hopper rolled his eyes, went to the kitchen, filled the biggest vase he could find with ice water, then stalked back over to Joyce to dump it on her head.   
He needed to talk to Joyce sober.   
“Christ, Hopper!” Joyce shrieked, flinging her wet arms at him so water sprayed all over his jacket. “What the hell was that for?”   
“Do you know where your kids are?” Hopper replied and her head reared back a little, confusion written all over her face.   
“What?”  
“Do you know where Will and Jonathan are?” He growled. She shook her head.   
“At school, I assume.” She said. “I woke up five minutes ago.”   
Hopper turned his back to her, not sure he could look Joyce in the face anymore. She didn’t even know. Didn’t remember what she had done. Christ.   
“They’re at the hospital, Joyce.” He said to the wall she had taken out with an axe once to find her son.   
“What? Why? Are they hurt?” She said and he bit his lip at the genuine concern in her voice. Christ.   
“There’s a pool of blood on your kitchen floor. Didn’t you notice that on your way to the booze cabinet?” He growled over his shoulder.   
He heard Joyce scramble to her feet and tumble toward the kitchen. She reappeared in front of him, hands on her hips, a familiar fire in her eyes.   
“What the hell happened?” She snarled, like the blood on the floor was his fault. He narrowed his eyes at her accusatory tone.   
“You. That’s what happened.” Her eyes widened and she took a step back, hands going to her face. Hopper couldn’t help but continue. “You got wasted and angry and then you threw a glass at Will and it hit him in the eye. You remember that, Joyce?”   
“No... I thought it was a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.” She whispered almost to herself, tears spilling over her cheeks. He almost felt bad for her, dripping wet, crying, her kid in the hospital. But then he remembered Will, lying too small on a gurney with a goddamn washcloth soaked with blood over the eye he almost lost.   
“How many of those nightmares do you think might be real? How many times has this happened, Joyce?” He said and that flicked the fire back into her eyes.   
“What? I would never hurt my boys!” She said. Hopper snorted.   
“Tell that to Will, why don’t you?” He replied and Joyce’s face exploded into a red, seething mess.   
“Shut the fuck up, Hopper. You don’t know anything… Bob is dead and Will keeps on having these, these monsters take him from me and then he tries to blow his brains out and neither him nor Jonathan will talk to me anymore. What else am I supposed to do?” She hissed.   
Hopper swallowed back the retort in his mouth. He needed information, not a fight with Joyce.   
“So, this isn’t the first time you’ve gotten wasted around the kids?” He said.   
“So, what if it is? It’s been a rough fucking two years and they’re not kids, Hopper. They’re both old enough to take care of themselves.” She said and Hopper just shook his head. He couldn’t believe this. An occasional fuck-up maybe. But this? This sounded like straight up neglect.   
“How often?” He said quietly. She gave him a look of confusion so he fixed her with a glare. “How often are you drunk around them?”   
“It’s not illegal to drink in front of your kids, Hopper.”   
“No, but it is illegal to not take care of them and chuck glasses at their heads. So, how often?” He said and she shrugged. Hopper rolled his eyes. “You want me to go ask Will and Jonathan? They can probably tell me every time they’ve seen you wasted and unable to take care of them.”   
“A couple times-.”  
“A couple? Numbers, Joyce, give me numbers.” Hopper interjected.   
“I don’t know, okay? Five or six times a week?” She said with a shrug.   
A week. Christ.   
Hopper stepped back and ran his hands through his hair, swearing.  
“Look, it’s not like you haven’t had your binge nights.” She said and he spun around.   
“Yeah, when my kid fucking died. You’ve got two kids, one of whom tried to kill himself not that long ago, alive and healthy.” He said, breath heaving in his lungs at the mention of Sara.   
Joyce snorted. “And my boyfriend got ripped to shreds by monsters last fall while another monster possessed my son. Yeah, my life is just perfect.” She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms.   
“Christ, Joyce.” Hopper said, shaking his head. He didn’t know how to explain to her that yes, her life was just about perfect, even with all the shit that happened. “They’re your kids. They need you.” He finished quietly, staring at the tips of his boots, waiting for Joyce to get her head screwed back on right. This was not the Joyce he knew.   
“And I need some time.” Joyce said in an equally quiet voice.   
“Time and booze?” Hopper couldn’t help replying. Joyce had a right to time. But Will and Jonathan had a right to get their mother back.   
“Get out of my house.” She hissed and he held up his hands and backed away toward the door.   
“Gladly.” He said and opened the door. “And don’t bother coming to the hospital. Will and Jonathan are under protective custody until you can get your shit together.” He called over his shoulder and let the door slam behind him, cutting off Joyce’s scream.   
She didn’t try to chase him down, he thought, as he drove away. His Joyce wouldn’t have let him leave her driveway until he agreed to give her kids back.

After dropping Mike and El off at school, he stopped by the station and stared at the protective custody forms he had Flo print out.   
He had filled out the name part easy enough. He had decided Jonathan, who he liked well enough but suspected the opposite was not true, should go to the Wheeler’s and once he explained the situation, Karen Wheeler quickly agreed over the phone. Karen had offered to take Will as well, but he decided he couldn’t stick two extra kids on her and declined. Will would stay with Hopper. Easier to keep an eye on the kid that way, he figured. He didn’t even know if Joyce had talked to Will about the suicide incident so many weeks ago. He had failed in tracking down the kids who did it, but that didn’t mean she had to forget about it. Will probably hadn’t.   
The biographical information was a little trickier but he found the kids’ birth certificates in a file easily enough and had that filled out a couple minutes later.   
It was the ‘Inciting Incident’ part he didn’t know how to fill out. Neglect? Abuse? Alcoholism? General insanity?   
As angry as he was, Hopper didn’t want Joyce in prison and he doubted Will did either. He couldn’t speak for Jonathan, but he knew the foster care system. Knew it would take Will, twist and strangle the kid, then spit him out the other side, beaten and bitter. He had already filed an incident report, saying Will tripped and fell on a glass on the floor next to the couch. It was weak, but no one would ever really scrutinize it. Not in Hawkins anyway.   
He cursed and scribbled in hurried, messy handwriting, ‘unable to care for children due to trauma and grief’ and went to file the paperwork with Flo.   
Hopper found Jonathan reading a book next to a sound asleep Will. He waved Jonathan out of the room and into the hallway.   
“How’s Will?” He said.   
Jonathan shrugged. “Fine, I guess. Doctor says he’ll make a fully recovery physically. I’m just worried about… I mean what happened with the gun plus this? I don’t know if I should put him in a hospital or just not let him out of my sight or what.”   
Hopper nodded. Trauma, he knew, could wreck a life. And Will had suffered enough trauma already.   
“I went to see your mom.” He said after a few beats of silence. Jonathan snorted, staring at his dirty sneakers.   
“What did she say? Sorry?” He said.   
“Uh, no, actually. She didn’t remember what happened, thought it was a nightmare.” Hopper explained and Jonathan’s lips twitched into a demented smile.   
“Figures.” He murmured. “She can’t come visit him. I won’t let her.” He added, a familiar fire in his brown eyes.   
Hopper held up a hand, the next part of the discussion clinging to his tongue so he didn’t have to actually say anything.   
“She’s not legally allowed to anymore.” Jonathan’s head snapped up and he stared at Hopper with wide eyes. “You and Will are under protective custody.”  
“What?” Jonathan said. “You put us in foster care?”   
“No, Jesus, of course not. You’re going to the Wheeler’s and Will’s coming with me and El.” In Hopper’s opinion, it seemed like a pretty good deal, at least until they figured out a more permanent solution. He didn’t know what that would look like and he hoped Joyce would be involved, but he didn’t really know at this point.   
Jonathan, on the hand, stood up, fists clenched, and face bright red. “You can’t do that!” He said and kicked the chair next to him.   
“You want to bring Will back to your mom? He almost lost an eye, Jonathan.” Hopper argued.   
“So? He can stay with me, I’ll watch him!” Jonathan retorted.   
“Right, because you being there made a big difference last night.” Hopper said and regretted the words as Jonathan’s head drooped and his shoulders collapsed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just… I just want both of you safe, alright?”   
Will’s brother sighed and nodded his head.   
“Why do we have to be separated?” He said.   
“Because I only have room for one of you with El and I’m not putting Will with the Wheeler’s. Not after everything that’s happened.” Hopper said, expecting another fight, but Jonathan just nodded, deflated.   
“Can you watch Will for a bit? I’m gonna go take a walk.” He murmured and walked away before Hopper could answer.   
Hopper took Jonathan’s vacated seat in Will’s room and book. Something boring for class, but Hopper opened it anyway, skimming the pages for awhile.   
Jonathan didn’t return, but the doctor dropped off Will’s discharge papers for Hopper to sign. He decided to wait for an hour, give Jonathan a chance to return, before waking Will up to leave.   
He picked up the book again when he noticed brown eyes staring at him.   
“Hey, kid. How are you feeling?” Hopper said, putting the book down. Will shrugged. “Okay. You want anything to eat?” Will shook his head. Hopper sighed. He hadn’t spent much time with Will alone, at least not when the kid’s life wasn’t in danger. Maybe taking him in, even temporarily, was a bad idea.   
“Uh, Jonathan left to take a walk, but he should be back soon and the doc dropped off your discharge papers, so then we can go.” Hopper said and Will just nodded with tired eyes. Or eye. The other had a bandage taped over it to help keep it shut while the skin healed.   
“I told your brother this, but you’re not going back to your house.” Hopper said and Will sat up, eyes wide with terror, and shook his head.  
“No way.” He said. “No foster care.”   
Hopper had a brief second to wonder how many times the Byers boys had considered reporting their mother and then decided against it so they didn’t have to go into foster care. Then, Will started pulling at his IV and the heart monitor wires.   
“Woah, hold on a sec, kid. We have to wait for a nurse, okay?”   
“No foster care.” Will said, wincing a little as he yanked the needle out of his arm.   
Christ.   
“I didn’t say you were going to foster care.” Hopper said, searching the room for a band aid. Will seem unbothered by the blood dripping down his forearm and Hopper didn’t want to think about that. “You’re coming with me and Jonathan’s going to Mike’s. Temporarily.” He explained. Unlike his brother, Will just nodded and sat back, letting Hopper stick a band aid over the hole in his arm.   
After an hour, Jonathan didn’t reappear so Will changed into the bloody clothes he had come in with the night before and they left.   
Hopper kept an eye on him as they drove. He was halfway to the cabin when he glanced at a sleeping Will and the giant pool of blood down his shirt and realized he didn’t have any clean clothes for the kid.   
Shit.   
He turned around. As long as Will was asleep, he could probably pick his stuff up now and not risk having Joyce drop it off at the cabin.  
He parked at the end of the road, checked that Will was asleep again, and walked to the Byers house.   
The cold bit his hands so he stuffed them in his pockets and kept his head down. He groaned a little when he reached the house and spotted Joyce’s car parked in front of the porch. Shit.   
Hopper knocked and got no reply. He knocked again. Nothing. He thought about leaving, but he’d have to come back at some point, so he might as well get it over with now.   
He tried the doorknob, praying it was locked so he had an excuse to walk away. The door opened easily and he cursed.   
The house reeked of alcohol. Glass still sparkled on the ground next to a smudged red stain like Joyce had tried to clean it without picking up the glass first and then gave up.   
“Joyce?” He said. No response. He crept through the house carefully, checking each room for Joyce before moving on to the next one. He found her in her bedroom, flopped sideways on the bed, snoring.   
He smirked and moved onto Will’s room. It looked untouched by the mess in the rest of the house. Except a lot of Will’s newest pictures, hidden under a stack of textbooks on his desk, featured violence, he noticed. Broken bottles, a pool of blood on the floor, monsters with bloody teeth. Finally, a picture of two headstones, side by side. Jonathan and William Byers. Turning away, he dumped some clothes and a heavy jacket into a duffel bag, grabbed Will’s school stuff, and looked around the room one last time, just to make sure he had everything. His eyes rested on a stuffed lion, half poking out from under Will’s blankets. Sara had a tiger, he remembered, and decided to grab it just in case.   
He started walking down the road, back to the truck, when he heard a car honking. Over and over again. He looked around, expecting to see a car alarm blaring or something. There were few houses in this area and he could only really spot one distantly through the trees.  
He started running, just in case his suspicions were true, and froze when he rounded the final curve of the road.   
The truck sat at the end of the road, horn blaring. He could see Will frantically slamming his hand against the steering wheel. Joyce stood outside the truck, tugging on the handles and knocking against the window.   
“Joyce!” Hopper bellowed as loud as he could, now sprinting towards the truck. He didn’t know or particularly care if she was drunk. Either way, from the looks of it, she was scaring the shit out of Will.   
“Joyce, leave him alone!” He yelled and she backed away. He almost paused he was so surprised she listened, but then she started rummaging around the side of the road. He didn’t know what the hell she was doing, but decided he didn’t want to find out. He started running again, Will’s backpack banging against his back. Will had spotted him and the honking stopped. He climbed back into the passenger seat and waved at Hopper to hurry.   
Then, Joyce reappeared, staggering over to the truck, and blocked his view of Will.   
“Joyce, you better leave him the fuck alone!” Hopper yelled and she turned to smile at him over her shoulder. Will slammed his fists against the window, screaming something Hopper couldn’t hear.   
Joyce turned away from him and before he could call her name again, lifted her arm into the air-a rock, Hopper realized, she had a rock in her hand-and slammed it into the window, bashing it open.   
Christ.   
Hopper heard the glass shatter and just beneath it, Will screaming.   
“Leave me alone!” Will said. Joyce had both arms in the truck and seemed to be trying to drag the struggling kid out the window by one arm.   
“Joyce!” Hopper bellowed again, but she just tugged harder on Will’s arm. Hopper reached her just as Will cursed when his arm scraped against the jagged shards of glass left in the window. He ripped Joyce’s hands off of her son and shoved her back away from the truck. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He snarled.   
“Me? What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just take my kids away, Hopper.” She said, waving a hand at Will, who was cradling his arm against his chest and leaning as far away from the window as he could.   
“I can when you start doing crazy shit like this.” Hopper said.   
“I want my boys back. They belong at home.” Joyce said and tried to peer around Hopper to look at Will. “Right, Will? Don’t you want to come home, baby?”   
Will’s mouth stumbled over words but Hopper just talked over them with some of his own.   
“You don’t get to talk to him, alright? Not until you screw your head back on.” Hopper said and threw the bags into the back of the truck. He had to go around to the other side and by the time he reached the driver’s side door, Joyce had approached Will again.   
“Will, baby, please come home. I love you so much. This is just a big misunderstanding.” She said and Will hid his face in his hands.   
“I think the glass to his face sent a pretty clear message, Joyce.” Hopper said and threw the truck into reverse. Once again, Joyce did not chase him as he drove away with her kid. 

They arrived at the cabin after picking up El, who just stared at the broken window, until Hopper promised to explain it later and Will flinched a little.   
He sent both kids inside with Will’s bags and worked on cleaning out the glass shards and taping a tarp over the window until he could get it to the garage. The work kept his hands busy and he didn’t let his mind wander too much. Just planned what they would eat for dinner. He needed to ask Will what he liked for breakfast and maybe make a trip to the store later. He also needed to call the Wheeler’s and see if anyone had seen Jonathan recently. He had waited outside the truck at school and explained to El Will was going to stay with them for a bit, but he also knew he had more explaining to do there. Especially after the window incident.   
Finished, he walked back inside. Will sat at the kitchen table with a crayon in his hand and El sat opposite him, doing some homework. He turned to sit on the couch when he glimpsed the side of Will’s shirt. Bright red spots stared back, a completely different shade than the pool on his front.   
“Will? Your arm okay?” Hopper said, suddenly remembering Joyce tugging on it across the glass.   
Will nodded. “It’ll stop bleeding in a minute.” He said and Hopper decided he did not want to know how the kid sounded so sure about that. Instead he got the first aid kit out and kneeled in front of Will, staring expectantly until the kid stopped drawing long enough to show him the wound running down his upper arm.   
Not very deep, the kid was probably right. Hopper checked it for any glass chunks, dabbed it with alcohol just in case, and then put a band aid on it anyway.   
“Next time, you tell me if you’re hurt.” Hopper said and Will shrugged, but nodded a second later when Hopper didn’t go away.   
It was going to be a long stay, Hopper decided.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of child pornography

They arrived at the cabin after picking up El, who just stared at the broken window, until Hopper promised to explain it later and Will flinched a little.   
He sent both kids inside with Will’s bags and worked on cleaning out the glass shards and taping a tarp over the window until he could get it to the garage. The work kept his hands busy and he didn’t let his mind wander too much. Just planned what they would eat for dinner. He needed to ask Will what he liked for breakfast and maybe make a trip to the store later. He also needed to call the Wheeler’s and see if anyone had seen Jonathan recently. He had waited outside the truck at school and explained to El Will was going to stay with them for a bit, but he also knew he had more explaining to do there. Especially after the window incident.   
Finished, he walked back inside. Will sat at the kitchen table with a crayon in his hand and El sat opposite him, doing some homework. He turned to sit on the couch when he glimpsed the side of Will’s shirt. Bright red spots stared back, a completely different shade than the pool on his front.   
“Will? Your arm okay?” Hopper said, suddenly remembering Joyce tugging on it across the glass.   
Will nodded. “It’ll stop bleeding in a minute.” He said and Hopper decided he did not want to know how the kid sounded so sure about that. Instead he got the first aid kit out and kneeled in front of Will, staring expectantly until the kid stopped drawing long enough to show him the wound running down his upper arm.   
Not very deep, the kid was probably right. Hopper checked it for any glass chunks, dabbed it with alcohol just in case, and then put a band aid on it anyway.   
“Next time, you tell me if you’re hurt.” Hopper said and Will shrugged, but nodded a second later when Hopper didn’t go away.   
It was going to be a long stay, Hopper decided. 

The next day, a social worker showed up at the station and interviewed Jonathan and then Will for well over two hours. Hopper watched from his desk as Will shrugged or talked quietly. Jonathan had already left with an angry look at Hopper and without saying goodbye to his brother.   
Hopper stood up, stretched, and decided he needed coffee. And if he checked in on Will on the way with a little spy work, who cared?   
He busied himself making a fresh pot of coffee, something he almost never did and didn’t really always remember how to do, while listening to the social worker and Will talk.  
“What about your dad, Will? Lonnie Byers?”   
“He doesn’t live with us anymore.”  
“Why’s that?” Because he’s an asshole, Hopper thought.   
“I don’t know. He left a couple years ago and nobody would tell me why.”   
“Did he ever hurt you?” The social worker said and Hopper glanced over his shoulder to see Will shrug, his face bright red, eyes on the floor. “What does that mean, Will?”   
“Not really. He just wasn’t very nice.” Asshole, Hopper corrected in his head, he was an asshole.   
“What made him seem not very nice?”   
“Uh, he yelled a lot, shoved my mom around sometimes, broke stuff.”   
“Was he nice to you and Jonathan?” Hopper couldn’t help his ears perking up. Joyce never talked about Lonnie, especially not in relation to the kids.   
“Not really. He left Jonathan alone for the most part. He… he just called me names, mostly.”   
“What kind of names?” But Hopper already knew and he tightened his grip on his mug while Will replied.   
“Fairy, queer, fag. That sort of stuff.” Hopper shoved a large gulp of hot coffee down his throat to keep from muttering under his breath.   
“And are you a fag?” He spat the coffee back into his cup and spun around.   
The social worker, a young blond woman, was staring at Will, pen poised to write. Will stuttered over an answer.   
“Does it matter?” Hopper said. The social worker, Lisa, he remembered, raised an eyebrow at him.   
“Chief Hopper, this is a private interview.” She said.   
“Yeah and he’s in my custody.”  
“Private interview.” She repeated. Hopper picked up her coat and offered it to her.   
“Interview’s over then.” He said. She didn’t take the coat.   
“This will not go over well with getting a court order.” She said.   
“Not sure how knowing who the kid likes will help either.” Hopper said. Lisa crossed her legs and shrugged.   
“Just getting all the facts.” She said with a tiny smirk. Hopper glared and Will ducked his head.   
“Yeah, well, start collecting relevant facts or next time, I drag your ass out.” Hopper said. She frowned, but nodded, and asked Will about his grades in school. While Will murmured an answer, Hopper took over Powell’s desk and pretended to be doing paperwork for the rest of the interview. After another half hour, Lisa stood up, thanked Will for his time, offered a glare to Hopper, and left. Hopper resisted the urge to flip off her retreating back.   
“Ready for lunch, kid?” He said and took Will’s shrug as a yes. 

They ordered their food at the diner and then Hopper settled back in his chair to inspect his new charge.   
Will still looked exhausted. Not just because of the dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders slumped, he kept his head on his hands, and he was quiet as he stared out the window.   
“Will, you been sleeping okay?” Hopper said and received a shrug in return. Clearly, they needed to talk about verbal communication. “Will…”   
Will kept his eyes on the window, watching the cars zoom past in the street. “Sort of. Nightmares.” He said.   
“About what happened with your mom?” Hopper guessed.   
“And the Upside Down.” Will added. Hopper nodded. He had some of those nightmares too.   
“Anything I can do to help?” Hopper said and Will shook his head. Figured.  
Hopper casted around his head for something to ask. For whatever reason, silence with El had always been normal. Silence with Will made him think something was wrong.   
But Will broke the silence first.   
“Is it bad to take pictures of your kid?” He said. Hopper stared for a moment before replying.   
“Uh, no. Most parents seem to do it and nobody’s made it illegal.” Hopper said, trying to see a connection between nightmares and photography.   
“Not like normal photos.” Will clarified. Hopper still didn’t understand and just frowned.   
“What are ‘not normal’ photos?” He said. Will kept his face toward the window and the afternoon sun illuminated his pale features, but Hopper could see a blush creeping up his neck.   
“Like when your kid isn’t… isn’t wearing any clothes.” Will finished and swung his gaze to gauge Hopper’s reaction. Hopper just blinked, suddenly not hungry. He didn’t know how to react. Angry? Sad? What the hell was he supposed to do?  
Whatever he did wasn’t the right choice because Will’s gaze dropped to the table.   
“Never mind. Shouldn’t have brought it up.” He muttered.   
“No, uh, I was just surprised, that’s all.” Hopper stuttered, his mind still struggling to latch onto some direction.   
“So, it’s not normal?” Will said.   
“Definitely not normal.” Hopper agreed and Will frowned. Hopper could see the gears in his head whirling, trying to process the information while coming up with a new question.   
“Whatever. I’m a freak either way.” He said with a shrug. Hopper thought about dropping the subject for a moment. Let it slide by and not worry about all the consequences and implications. Like he did with Joyce’s drinking, he thought and glanced at the bandages covering Will’s face.   
“You’re not a freak, Will. Not because of this, anyway.” Hopper said, earning himself another frown from the kid. “Who was taking the pictures? Your mom?” Maybe it was just the typical naked two-year-old photos, Hopper thought, no big deal.   
“My dad.” Will said and Hopper cursed inside his head.   
“How old were you?” He said. Maybe Lonnie hadn’t always been an asshole father?   
“I don’t know. Nine or ten? It happened a couple times and then he left.” Will said. Hopper forced himself to breathe through his nose. That bastard.   
“He ever do anything else? Touch you or anything?” Hopper said and relaxed ever so slightly when Will shook his head, horrified and blushing.   
At that moment, their food arrived and Will dug into his pancakes. Hopper stared at his sandwich and wished he had ordered soup or something better for his now swirling stomach.   
He forced himself to eat about half the sandwich. Once Will finished the entirety of his pancakes, he looked up at Hopper.   
“So, is it?” He said.   
“Is it what?” Hopper replied, even though he already knew the question.   
“Is it bad?” Will said and Hopper wiped his mouth a napkin to keep from answering.   
“Yeah, Will, it’s bad.” He said slowly, forcing each word out of his mouth. Will had to know or it might happen again.   
Will’s whole face shattered and he looked down, frowning. “Oh.” He said.   
“It doesn’t mean anything, other than your dad is a…” Hopper thought about saying pervert but decided against it last second, “an asshole.” He finished and could have smacked himself in the face. Asshole? Hopper was an asshole. Lonnie Byers was much worse.   
Will nodded, but on the way back to the cabin, he refused to talk. Hopper decided to call Lisa in the morning and let her know. Just in case. 

Hopper took Will to the station again the next day. The court order giving Hopper longer custody was supposed to come in that day. Will sat on the floor in front of Hopper’s desk, coloring, while Hopper tapped the arm of his chair, eyes flickering between the clock and the door. Noon, they had told him. He would know by noon.   
By 11:30am, Hopper was about a second away from reaching for the phone and calling Lisa himself when someone knocked on the door.   
Will sat up, picture abandoned. Hopper called for the person to enter and Lisa strutted in, a satisfied smirk on her face. Hopper inhaled a sharp breath. This couldn’t be good.   
“Good morning, Chief Hopper, Will.” She said. “May I sit down?” She gestured at the chair across from Hopper’s desk.   
“Did you get the court order?” Hopper replied. Lisa rolled her eyes and sat down anyway.   
“I presented all the information I was given. And the court decided it would be best for Will to return to live with his mother.” She said with the same tiny smile on her face.   
“What?” Hopper growled, standing up so he could lean over Lisa. She fidgeted but met his glare with ease.   
“You heard me.” She said.   
“Joyce almost took his eye out.” Hopper said. “Did you tell them what I called you about this morning?” He ignored the look of betrayal Will gave him and glowered at Lisa.   
“They said it was irrelevant as his parents are no longer together.”   
“Yeah, but she lets him see Will.” Hopper said. Lisa shrugged.   
“I presented the evidence to the court, including Will’s injuries and what I found at the house.”   
“Which was?” Hopper said, remembering the mess the house had been last time.   
“Perfectly clean, well-stocked, and tidy.” Lisa said.   
Christ. Joyce had cleaned the place up.   
“And the rock incident?” He said.   
“I talked to Will’s mother and she said it was a mistake on her part, but she didn’t know who the truck belonged to and she was worried for Will’s safety.”   
“It says ‘Hawkins PD’ on the side in big letters!” He yelled and Will flinched from his spot on the floor. Lisa looked from Will to Hopper.   
“I can’t argue with the court’s decision, Chief Hopper. And unless you want to go to jail, you can’t either.” She said and stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take Will back to his house.”   
Hopper swallowed hard and glanced at Will whose eyes kept flicking between Lisa and Hopper, like he didn’t know who to agree with.   
Hopper stood up, walked around the desk, and kneeled in front of Will to grab his shoulders.   
“You go home and you tell your mom what you told me about your dad, okay?” He said and Will nodded, eyes wide. Lisa sighed and tugged on Will’s shirt to get him to move. Hopper swatted her hand away. “And anything goes wrong, you call me or you tell El or one of the others at school, got it?”   
Will nodded and Hopper ruffled his hair. He thought about chasing him down as Lisa wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders and led him out the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Rape of minor

Time moved slowly for Hopper. Every day was a monotony of drop El off at school, go to work, pick El up, enjoy talking to her about school or her friends over dinner, help out with homework, read to El, and then sit on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring. It wasn’t bad by any means, just slow compared to the 72 hours he spent trying to protect Will.   
According to El, Will showed up to school every day looking more and more tired. Nothing to prove neglect or abuse, but Hopper suspected. He sent Callahan and Powell over to the house and they came back to tell him Joyce said she’d call the FBI if Hopper or his cronies showed up at her house again.   
“She literally used the word ‘cronies’, Chief.” Powell said before Hopper kicked them out of his office.   
He made sure to arrive at the pick-up line early that day and waited to spot Will for himself as he walked out to the car. El arrived and he explained the plan to her.   
“Will’s mom picked him up at lunch today.” She said and Hopper stared.   
“Why?”   
“He didn’t know, just left class when the office called him, and then we saw him walking across the parking lot with his mom.” El said, matching Hopper’s frown. There was nothing he could do, but once El fell asleep that night, he switched on the TV and waited, one eye on the screen, one eye on the phone.   
Even so, he jumped when it rang. He picked it up by the third ring and jammed it into his ear.   
“Will?” He said.   
Will’s voice replied, but he couldn’t make out any of the words.   
“Will, talk slower, kid, I can’t understand you.”   
“There’salotofbloodandItriedtostopoitanditwon’tstopbutIdon’tknowwhattodoandpleasepleasecome.” Will’s words stumbled into and over each other, but Hopper got the gist. Lots of blood. He needed to be at Will’s ASAP.   
“Is Jonathan there? Can I talk to him?”   
“Nonothere.” Will’s breathing picked up so he had to gasp for air in between words.   
“Will, calm down, okay, kid? I’m going to be there as soon as I can.” Hopper said and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his daughter peek out from around the corner. He waved her over to the phone when Will didn’t respond, but Hopper could still hear him gasping for air. “Will, I’m going to give the phone to El. You talk to her until I get there, okay?”   
“…Okay…” Will said after a few moments of silence. Hopper handed the phone to El.  
“Try to keep him calm until I get there. If he hangs up or I get there, you call 911 and you get an ambulance over to the Byers.” He said, kissed the top of El’s head with an arm wrapped around her, and then scrambled to get his coat and the truck keys. 

The drive to the Byers took too long. There was no traffic at one in the morning, but somehow the roads stretched longer than normal. He cursed when he rounded a bend on the Byers’ road and found another stretch of road between him and Will.   
He was almost there when headlights flashed into Hopper’s eyes and he had to veer a little off the road to avoid getting hit.   
“Asshole.” He muttered and stepped on the gas.   
He pulled up next to Joyce’s car and slammed the door behind him. He wanted Will, and Joyce, to know he was there. One hand on his gun, he marched up the front porch steps and knocked on the door.   
“Will?” He said. The phone was off the hook, dangling on the wire. The house itself was dark and Hopper fumbled along the walls for a minute for a light.   
The couch had a large dark stain on it that he hoped wasn’t blood. Bottles littered the kitchen counter along with dirty dishes just forgotten there. Something smelled from the fridge area and Hopper was willing to bet no one had cleaned it out in weeks. He couldn’t see any broken glass but there was a convenient throw rug where Will’s pool of blood had been. He moved it with his food and growled at the red stain underneath. Perfectly clean his ass.   
“Will? Joyce?” He called and moved toward the hallway with the bedrooms.   
He glanced into Jonathan’s room. Empty.   
He spotted Joyce, snoring, in her bed. He frowned when he noticed that, while she was mostly covered by sheets, she didn’t have any clothes on.   
He peeked into the bathroom next and gasped a little.   
Blood was smeared on the floor, the door handle, the tub. Lots of blood. He hurried down the hallway to Will’s room.   
The bed was a mess, sheets and blankets strewn across the floor. Clothes were tossed into different corners and papers were scattered over the floor. He traced the outline of a dent in the door with his finger.   
“Will?” He said, scanning the room. He checked the closet, empty. He checked the other side of the bed, empty. He decided to go check the yard.  
“Is he gone?” Will’s voice was so soft that Hopper almost didn’t even pay attention to it. He spun around, searching the room. A pale, trembling hand stuck out from under the bed before diving back in.   
Hopper tugged his flashlight out of his belt and lay on his stomach so he could shine the light on Will.   
The kid held his hand up when the beam hit his face, but Hopper caught a glimpse of the bruises there. And the ones around his wrists. He shined the light down, noting the smears of blood all over his body, especially down his legs, and the bruises wrapping around his ankles. He tried not to put too much thought into the fact that Will’s only clothes were boxer shorts, even though it was freezing outside and the heat wasn’t on very high.   
“Will?” He said.   
“Is he gone?” Will repeated.   
“Is who gone?” Hopper said, praying his hunch was wrong.   
“D-Lonnie.” Will said.   
Christ.   
“Yeah, he’s gone. Just your mom, me, and you.” Hopper said, remembering the car that almost hit him and cursing. Will nodded, curling into a ball. He burrowed his face into the floor, like he could hide among the layer of dust bunnies there.   
“You think you can crawl out of there so I can see what’s going on with that blood?” Hopper said but Will shook his head, eyes squeezed shut.   
Hopper sighed.   
Once again, he didn’t know what to do with the kid. Hunt down Lonnie, yell at Joyce for letting whatever happened happen, see where Jonathan was, all that he could do. Convince a traumatized, blood-covered little boy to crawl out from under his bed? Not so much. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to, it seemed unfair to Will anyway, except for the blood.   
“You want to tell me what happened then? El said your mom pulled you out of school early.” Hopper said and, to his relief, Will nodded.   
“Said Lonnie was here to see us.” He said. “Wasn’t, wanted to see Mom.”   
That explained the bottles then.   
“Then what?” Hopper said. Will shook his head and brought his arms up to cover his face. Tremors ran up his whole body and Hopper worried a little about shock.   
“Will, I think you need to come out now.” Hopper said, but Will shook his head again. “Kid, I know you’re scared, but I can’t help you if you’re under there.”   
But Will stayed still. “After dinner, they went into her room and I came in here and went to bed.” He said in a shaky voice. “But then…”   
Hopper almost cut him off. He knew what came next. Knew where the blood was coming from and why neither Joyce nor Will had any clothes on.   
“Will-.”  
“Then, Lonnie came in here and he-he kept saying it was just going to be like old times. I tried to get away, I really did, but he had these ropes and he tied me to the bed,” Will said, talking so fast Hopper could barely distinguish the words from each other. But at the same time he felt like each word was so clear it sliced his ear open a little deeper. “And then after awhile, he got sick of it, I guess, undid the ropes, and left. I-I tried to make the bleeding stop, I took a shower, but that didn’t work so I called you.” Hopper prayed that was the end, that was it. Will just got spooked and hid under the bed.   
Didn’t explain why the car left just as Hopper got there, though.   
“He came back?” Hopper guessed and Will nodded.   
“H-he didn’t really do anything this time… he just paced out there, talking, and I hid under here until he decided to leave.”   
It sounded like he had done more than enough to Hopper, who couldn’t quite breathe right and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was mad or nauseous or both. Meanwhile, Will had gone back to gasping for air without words to control his breathing and he could see his whole body trembling.   
“Will, can you come out now? I’m getting a little worried here.” Hopper said. Will didn’t respond, but in between the gasps he could hear his teeth chatter.   
He thought about moving the bed, but then the kid could just crawl back under it before Hopper could stop him. No, he needed Will to come out by himself.   
“What are you worried about if you come out?” Hopper said.   
“Safe…under…here.” Will said between gasps. The kid was going to pass out or something if he didn’t slow down his breathing.   
“Okay, well, I need you to try and slow down your breathing a little. Four counts in and four counts out.” Hopper said and started counting. He felt like an idiot, because he couldn’t imagine controlling his own breathing in the situation. But then Will started inhaling for three seconds and exhaling for three seconds. “Good job, kid. Just a little longer.” Hopper said and Will adjusted his breathing. After a few minutes, his breathing resumed to normal.   
“Good.” Hopper said and tried to gauge the kid’s body language to see if he could get the kid to crawl out. He seemed calm, calmer than before anyway. Hopper didn’t know if that meant he should just let the kid stay calm or try and force him to come out from under the bed.   
“Think… think I can come out now.” Will murmured, deciding for Hopper who sat up and moved out of the way as Will’s head appeared, then his back, and finally his legs. Hopper grabbed a blanket off the floor and draped it over the kid’s trembling shoulders. Will curled up in a ball against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. Hopper moved between Will and the bed, just in case he tried to dive back underneath when the paramedics arrived.  
Sirens sounded in the distance and Will flinched.   
“No hospital.” He said, but Hopper had to shake his head.   
“Kid, you have to go to the hospital. Just to make sure everything’s okay.” It was a stupid choice of words and Hopper knew it the moment he said it. Will’s eyes widened and then he shut them tight, causing tears to overflow onto his cheeks.   
“It’s not okay. Nothing’s okay.” He said, pressing his face into his knees.   
Hopper opened his mouth to respond, but then a door creaked open down the hallway and footsteps came toward them.   
“Will? Will, are you okay? I heard voices. Is your dad-?” She stopped outside Will’s door, hair messy, mascara smeared, wearing nothing but a robe. Her gaze turned mutinous when she spotted Hopper.   
“Hopper? Get the hell out of my house!” She said and Will flinched.   
“Joyce, calm down, okay? I’m here to help Will-.”   
“Help Will? You took him from his home, his family. That’s a kind of trauma, you know.” She said and Hopper opened his mouth to retort when the sirens sounded again and suddenly Will bolted for the other side of his bed, presumably to dive under it. Hopper scrambled to his feet and grabbed the kid under his armpits before he could disappear again.   
“Let me go!” Will screamed, writhing in Hopper’s arms, kicking his shins and scrabbling at his grip.   
“Oh my god, Hopper, let him go!” Joyce shrieked.   
“Kid, you can’t go back under the bed, okay?” Hopper said as Will dug his nails into Hopper’s arm and tried to scratch him. “Paramedics need to see you before you bleed to death.” He added, but the mention of the paramedics only sent Will into more of a frenzy.   
“NO! Stop, let go! Let go!” Will twisted in Hopper’s hands. Then, Joyce was tugging on his arms and the sirens got louder and Will’s screams started shaking the house. So, Hopper let go.   
Will dropped to the floor and Joyce tried to kneel next to him, stretching out her hand to touch his hair, but Will was already halfway under the bed.   
“Why is he covered in blood?” Joyce said, looking up at Hopper. “What the hell did you do?”   
“Me? Better question is what did your ex-husband do?” Hopper snarled back and heard a whimper leak out from under the bed.   
“Lonnie? He doesn’t have anything to do with this. He’s just visiting.” Joyce said, now looking around like Lonnie might appear out of a corner. “Where is he?”   
“Halfway to Mexico at this point.” Hopper muttered as he bent down to peer under the bed. Will had his back to Hopper, his spine sticking out of his skin and Hopper wondered when was the last time the kid ate an actual meal.   
“That doesn’t explain why Will is covered in blood.” Joyce said just as the front door burst open and she jumped, rushing into the hall just as two paramedics appeared.  
“What happened?” One of them said, kneeling down to look at Will under the bed.  
“His dad-.” Hopper lowered his voice so Will couldn’t hear. “-raped him.” The paramedics nodded but Joyce stumbled back, hand going to her chest. Hopper stood up to escort her out of the room before she lost it but she shoved him away when he approached.   
“No, don’t you dare! Lonnie did not rape our son! He-he just didn’t!”   
Will started crying, softly at first, but as Joyce continued her rant at Hopper, defending Lonnie’s innocence, it got louder and louder until Hopper was competing with the kid to get his voice heard.   
“Joyce, get out.”   
“Lonnie would never hurt Will. Never.”  
“Joyce, I’m not arguing this with you right now.”  
“I just… he was here to see Will. He told me that when he called to say he was coming.”   
“Seriously, you need to leave.”   
Hopper stuck his head out the doorway, glanced down the hallway and barked at Powell who was standing around looking like a dumbass, per usual, to get Joyce out of the room.   
Once Powell dragged a screaming Joyce out of the bedroom, Hopper slammed the door shut.   
“Will, kid, she’s gone, okay? I’ll talk to her later, get things sorted out.” Hopper said, walking around the bed to face Will, who had gone suddenly quiet in the moments before Joyce left.   
“Will?” Hopper said, shining his flashlight at the kid’s face. Purple lips struggling for air as purple fingers scrabbled at his throat. Hopper popped his head back up and looked at the paramedics. “He’s not breathing. Help me get this bed off him, now.”  
While one paramedic ran out of the room, the other one helped lift Will’s mattress off the bed and then slide the frame to the other wall.   
Hopper felt for a pulse in the kid’s neck. Weak, thready, but present.   
He backed up when an oxygen tank and mask got brought in along with an IV. Will didn’t even seem aware of what was going on. He didn’t even flinch when the needle went into his arm. Hopper sat as close to Will as he could without getting in the way, keeping a low hum of chatter about El and the rest of the crew, about the idiots he worked with, how weird it was not picking Will up from school anymore, etc.   
When the paramedics loaded Will onto the gurney, his eyes dripped shut. When Hopper gave one of the paramedics a panicked look, they just shrugged. “Sleeping.” They explained. “It could be a reaction to trauma.”   
Hopper walked with the stretcher out of the room and out the door. Joyce pounced on him once he stepped onto the porch.   
“Oh my god, is he okay? Is he breathing? What’s going on?” She said and Hopper blocked her from reaching Will. “Get out of my way, Hopper. That’s my son!” She growled and pounded a fist into his chest. He grabbed her arms before she could do anything else or get past him.   
“Did you know?” He said, getting close enough to smell the cigarette smoke and alcohol on her breath.   
“Did I know what?” She said, eyes locked over his shoulder on Will.   
“Did you know about what Lonnie did to Will? With the pictures?” Hopper growled and shook her arms to get her attention back on him.   
“What? No!” She said and ripped her arms from him. He straightened and almost got out of her way to go see Will when she rubbed her wrist and said, “Not really. I mean, he told me awhile ago, but Lonnie would never do that… I never saw any pictures like that around the house.” Hopper closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound of the sirens, the paramedics yelling stats about Will, and Joyce trying to defend herself.   
“You knew?” he said.   
“I didn’t believe him! I thought… well, honestly, he said you told him to tell me, so I figured it was some idiotic story you made up to make me pissed at Lonnie.” Joyce said, eyes somehow still fierce.   
Hopper snorted. “He didn’t know it was bad. When he first told me, he didn’t know what happened was wrong.” He said and spun around to climb into the ambulance.   
Once again, Joyce didn’t chase after him or even demand she ride with her son. 

Hopper drove Will back to the cabin later the same day. El was waiting on the porch for them when the truck pulled up and ran forward to open the door for Will. She tried to hug him, but he yelped and scrambled back to the driver’s side of the truck. Hopper sighed when El turned to look at him with a confused face.   
He sent Will to the bedroom to set up the cot he had used when he stayed last time and sat across from his daughter at the table, trying to figure out a good way to explain rape to her. And not just rape between strangers.   
He stumbled and struggled for words for about five minutes before he was sure El got the gist of it.   
“So, if Will says he sees Lonnie or his mom, you call me okay?”   
“And break Lonnie’s arm?” El said. Hopper nodded. Couldn’t hurt anyway.   
Hopper worked on lunch while El sat on the couch, waiting for Will to come out. When he didn’t after Hopper called his name, he walked over to the bedroom and peered inside.   
The kid was gone.   
Shit.   
Hopper checked the whole room and inside the closet, calling Will’s name. He stared at El’s bed. The kid wouldn’t… he definitely would. So, Hopper lay down on his stomach and looked under the bed.   
Will looked back at with blank eyes and Hopper resisted the urge to sigh.   
“Will, we talked about this, remember?” Hopper said, referring to a conversation earlier that morning when Hopper left the room for five minutes and Will ripped out every needle and monitor attached to him to climb under the bed.   
Will didn’t respond except to tuck his head into his knees so he no longer saw Hopper, who just sighed and took a seat on the chair next to El’s bed to wait it out.   
After an hour of silence and El joining his silent vigil with a book, Hopper decided Will had had enough time to calm down.   
“Will, think it’s time for you to come out now.” No response. “Kid…”   
“Safe.” Will said.   
“Lonnie’s not here, doesn’t even know where this place is.”   
“He’s coming back.”  
Hopper froze and exchanged a glance with El.  
“He say that to you?” Hopper said.   
“Yeah.” Will said in a small voice.   
“He say anything else about coming back?”   
Will didn’t reply for a full minute.   
“Just… just that he wasn’t going to be so nice next time.” He said.   
Shit.   
The guy was probably crazy enough to take a second shot at Will but he also could have said it just to torture the kid. Either way, Will couldn’t spend his life under a bed waiting for Lonnie to appear.   
“Okay, well, I have a gun and El has superpowers, so I think between us you’re pretty safe.” Hopper said.   
Another of minute of silence.  
“You sure he doesn’t know where I am?” Will said.   
“Yeah, definitely.” Hopper said and Will’s leg slid out from beneath the bed, followed by the rest of him. “Good. Now, lunch.” Hopper said.   
This time, Hopper demanded a different social worker or else he went public with Lisa’s blatant abuse of power and a very sweet, little old lady named Diane showed up to interview Will. No one had seen Jonathan in several days at that point, but Nancy said she got a call from him the day after the Lonnie incident and he told her he was okay and going to spend some time with his aunt.   
Regardless, Hopper got custody of Will for the next eight weeks while the neglect charges were investigated. He had decided to let the state authorities handle Joyce since he wasn’t exactly unbiased. He was still hopeful Will would eventually go back home. Joyce just needed to sort things out first.   
Living with Will turned out to be a lot more effort than Hopper had expected. He didn’t eat and mostly just stared at whatever food Hopper forced him to put on his plate or poked at it with his fork. He slept for a couple of hours at night before waking up, crying or screaming, and then refused to go back to sleep until the next night. As a result of his exhaustion, he was usually grumpy by the end of the day, shrugging or ignoring any questions directed him. Unsurprisingly, he jumped at loud noises or sprinted toward the bedroom if he got nervous, so he could hide under the bed and Hopper would have to spend an hour or so coaxing him out. Sometimes, Hopper found him asleep under there.   
School, though, turned out to be the biggest issue. Will refused to go. Said it wasn’t safe and Lonnie could find him there. Hopper pointed out that if Lonnie even tried getting past the secretaries at the front desk, their first call was 911. El pointed out they shared most of their classes so if Lonnie showed up, she could just break his neck. This particular argument sent Will under the bed for two hours. Hopper didn’t want to force the kid to go, but he also didn’t want him to get behind or lose contact with his friends. Though, with the walkie talkie, the latter would be pretty difficult. He and Mike talked for almost an hour every day. Hopper wasn’t even sure what about, but Will always hid under the bed right after school ended so he could talk to Mike.   
Hopper decided to start small. He forced Will to come with him to drop El off or pick her up rather than hide in the cabin. Then, Hopper forced him to go to the grocery store. Eat lunch at the diner. Baby steps to getting back out in the world. More often than not, these experiments ended with Will trembling all the way back to the cabin and hiding under the bed for awhile. But he still did it, so Hopper considered anything he could get progress.   
It took a whole month but one morning, Will walked out to the truck to where El and Hopper were waiting for him to go to school, backpack in hand.   
Hopper grinned. “The scholar returns, eh?” He said and Will ducked his head, smiling.   
The crew started whooping and hollering the moment Will stepped out of the truck. Hopper thought Will might duck back inside at the noise but El tugged on his sleeve and guided him back into school.   
He wasn’t surprised, however, when Will half sprinted to the truck at the end of the day, curled up at the window, and refused to talk the rest of the day. He let Will stay at the station with him the next morning.   
They settled on an agreement that Will had to go to school at least three days a week, he had to take five bites of everything on his plate, and he had to try to go back to sleep after he woke up at night on school nights. Hopper made it a point to celebrate whatever successes either kid achieved. Will went to school five days in a row? Breakfast for dinner. El did well on a math test? They watched a movie of her choice that weekend.   
It didn’t always work, but it kept everybody sane.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homophobic Language below

Will liked eighth grade. Eighth graders were allowed to walk in the hallways between classes, as long as they had a pass.   
So, he took his time walking to history class after he had to stay behind during math to ask a couple of questions. He had a pass clutched in his hand and he was prepared to wave it in anyone’s face who questioned him.   
Footsteps approached in the hall around the corner and Will tensed, unsure if he actually wanted to engage in a confrontation over a hall pass or not.  
But it was just Paul Nolson. A short, skinny red head from Will’s side of town. Will liked Paul. He was nice, smart, and didn’t call Will names. They had been partnered on a few projects over the years and rumors spread that Paul had a crush on Will, but Will didn’t believe them. Paul ran cross country and he didn’t watch Star Trek. He couldn’t be gay.  
“Hi Paul.” Will said and Paul looked up, eyes red and puffy.   
“Oh. Uh, hi Will.” He said and tried to hurry past.   
“You okay?” Will said. Paul snorted.   
“Yeah, just…I don’t know. Troy cornered me after my saxophone lesson today and you know how he is.” Paul said and Will nodded. He did know how Troy was. He was one of the few kids who would still scream ‘faggot’ at Will across the whole cafeteria instead of just whisper it at him in the hallway.  
“I didn’t know you played saxophone.” Will said and Paul held up a large black case.   
“Uh, yeah. You play any instruments?” Paul said. Will shook his head but Paul kept smiling. “I can show you.” He said.   
“I have class.” Will said, gaze flicking down the hall toward his classroom. He was still really behind in history and they had an exam on Monday.   
“Oh. Well, uh, I’ll see you later.” Paul said, eyes downcast, and began to walk away. Will started toward his history classroom. He had to go to class, Hopper would kill him if he didn’t…but Paul had looked awfully disappointed. One bad test grade couldn’t hurt.   
“Hey Paul!” Will said, turning around. Paul spun around as well. “I don’t have a lot of hand-eye coordination, so you better be a good teacher.” Will said, grinning with Paul.   
They ended up outside in the school yard, near the pick-up area and bus line. History was the last class of the day and Will figured they could just say their class let out a little early if they caught late enough.   
Troy went through proper finger placements and how to blow through the mouthpiece. They laughed at Will’s terrible playing and told jokes about Troy and the other idiots at their school. Paul, Will learned, also hated his dad. He lived with his grandmother and her cat, Elsa. His mom died when he was young and he teared up a little when he talked about her, but Will pretended not to notice. He also liked to color, especially mystical creatures and superheroes.   
He had his arms around Will’s shoulders, guiding his fingers over the proper keys while Will worked on the proper technique with his mouth. Paul laughed in a sweet way whenever Will played the wrong note. Will liked Paul’s laugh. Maybe Paul could come play a campaign with the crew sometime.   
Will turned to ask Paul if he’d be interested, but he stumbled a little when he caught sight of Paul’s brown eyes, that were suddenly awfully close to Will’s own. Then, Paul’s lips were on his and Will thought about tearing his way. This was wrong, this was bad, this would get him in so much trouble.   
But then, he couldn’t help but kiss back, leaning into Troy’s chest a little. He set the saxophone to the side so he could mimic Troy’s hands on his shoulders. Will’s stomach and chest felt warm, Will thought. Like he had just eaten a really good Thanksgiving dinner. His fingers danced against the Paul’s ears as he moved his hands through the other boy’s hair. No wondered all Mike and El ever did was kiss. If Will had known kissing felt this good, he might have been interested in it too.   
Paul turned the kiss deeper and Will had to gasp for breath a little whenever they broke away. He got a little nervous when Paul’s tongue flicked against his, but squashed the feeling and flicked his own tongue back.   
“Faggots!” Will tore away from Paul to stare at the large crowd of kids staring at him and Paul. His breath caught in his throat, but not like before. This was bad. Very, very bad. He couldn’t breathe and he kept his eyes on the ground as more kids started throwing insults.   
“Perve!”   
“Fairy fucker!”   
“Go rot in Hell!”   
Will felt tears burn his eyes and he squeezed them shut, praying he’d wake up and this was some sort of nightmare. Suddenly, he realized his hands were still entwined in Paul’s hair and he jerked them away, but Paul grabbed them in his and gave Will a small smile.   
“It’s okay, Will. They don’t know what they’re talking about.” He said. Will didn’t understand how Paul could be so calm. Didn’t he know this was the end of any peace or quiet for the rest of his time in Hawkins?   
Will opened his mouth to argue, but then Paul pulled him to his feet so they were standing on the picnic table bench, staring out into the sea of angry faces, holding hands. Will wiped his other hand on his jeans, but it didn’t seem to work. He felt hot and cold at the same time. He glanced at Paul, who was just smiling as more and more insults filled the air.   
“Will and I,” Paul said over the yelling and Will prayed he was going to apologize and say it had just been a stupid joke or something, “are proud to say our love is stronger than your hate!”   
Silence hung heavy on Will’s shoulders. He turned to gape at Paul who just smiled gently and squeezed his hand before leaning in to kiss him again. Will felt himself lean in a little too, because that kiss before had felt awfully good and it wasn’t like he didn’t want to do it again, but maybe just in secret and definitely not in front of the whole school. But he also didn’t want to insult the only kid who seemed interested and would probably ever be interested in kissing Will. Except his eyes caught on Mike’s face confused and stunned face. And Lucas and Dustin were also giving him strange looks mixed with embarrassment. They were ashamed to be associated with him. Even Max, who had never been mean to Will once, had turned away with her hands over her face.   
Just as Paul’s lips touched his, Will yelped, jerked his hand out of Paul’s, and fell off the bench.   
No one laughed.   
Head spinning a little, Will scrambled to his feet. He couldn’t breathe and all the noise filtering through his ears sounded fuzzy, like he had a heavy curtain over his head. He wished he did, so he could just hide somewhere. Paul looked down at him, the sun illuminating the red in his hair, and said, “Will, are you okay?”   
No, no he was not okay. He couldn’t breathe and everyone knew he was a faggot, even though he still wasn’t sure himself. He had liked the kiss with Paul, obviously, but maybe girls were even better kissers. He wasn’t sure how it could possibly get any better than what he had just experienced and he didn’t want to ask Mike because that would be weird on too many levels and he really couldn’t breathe now and was that Mike now? In his face, yelling?   
Then, pain blistered across his face and his hearing cleared up perfectly so he could hear Troy laughing as Will doubled over. He could feel Mike’s arms holding him up and he was about shove Mike away, to keep any rumors from falling on him, when he looked up and Paul was charging Troy, fist raised.   
“Leave my boyfriend alone!” He screamed, but Troy just laughed, dodged the punch, and sucker punched him in the stomach. Will winced for his new friend (?) and watched him collapse on the ground, holding his stomach.   
He looked up at Mike, who was still holding him up, but stared at Will like he didn’t know him. Will rushed to reassure him. “We were just kissing… for fun.” He said. “We’re not…not dating or anything. Just friends. That’s all.” He explained and Mike nodded, looking totally unconvinced, and helped Will stand on his own two feet.   
“Faggot doesn’t even like you, Nolson!” James laughed at the red-head on the ground.   
“Fuck and tell, nice Byers!” Troy said with a nasty grin. But Will didn’t join in. He was too busy looking at Paul who had tears in his big, nice brown eyes. Will’s heart thudded against his chest and he wondered if Paul’s face was what heartbreak looked like. Will wanted to apologize but then Paul stood up, brushed the dirt off his knees, and stalked over to Will.   
Will opened his mouth to apologize, to somehow communicate he would be happy to kiss Paul later, in private, but then Paul spit in his face.   
Howls of laughter rose in the air.   
Will shut his eyes to keep the tears at bay. He didn’t see the punch coming but he felt it, burning across his face. Somehow, it hurt so much more than the last one. He tumbled over, hit the ground hard, hands up to cover his face, and just opened his eyes when Paul straddled him across the waist and Will gasped. This was too close, he thought. Too close to Lonnie and the blood. Before had been fine, they weren’t really touching, just hands on heads and lips on lips. Nothing serious. But this was too much.   
Then another fist slashed across his face. And another and another. He could hear other kids screeching, laughing as Paul pummeled him. Dustin kept screaming ‘you son of a bitch!’ and Will didn’t know who it was directed at, Paul or Will. Blood trickled down Will’s face from the newly healed wounds above his eye and out of his nose. The pain there didn’t feel like anything compared to the pain in his chest as he tried to breathe but couldn’t.   
Suddenly, the punches stopped. Will lay on the ground, panting for a moment. Mike appeared over him. “Will, you okay?”   
Again, no he was not okay. How could he possibly be okay?  
He rolled over and vomited.   
“Gross.” Someone said but the rest of the crowd just laughed. Face burning, eyes wet, Will stood up, stepped over the vomit, shoved past Mike, and sprinted back toward the school. No one would touch him, he realized, as the rest of the students parted out of his way. He was like Moses. A queer Moses who everybody thought would give them diseases.   
He slammed through the door and kept running down the empty hallway. He veered left, then right, then left again. He had no clue where he was going, but hopefully, far, far away.   
Will skidded past his janitorial closet. He stopped, almost fell over again, and leapt inside, slamming the door behind him. He jammed a chair without a seat on it under the doorknob so no one could get in and crammed himself into the corner in a ball.   
Shit.   
Shit.   
Shit.   
He bit his hand until he tasted blood and then screamed into his own skin, letting his hand muffle the sound. Tears dripped down his face, but it all felt like hot, sticky blood to him. He slammed his other fist against the ground, again and again.   
How could he have been so stupid? He should have known Paul would do that, everyone said he had a crush on Will. And, to make it worse, Will had kissed back. He let his tongue run over his bottom lip, tasting the blood, but half wishing it tasted like Paul instead.   
Shit.   
He banged his head against the wall and let the wave of pain wash over him. He did it again and again until a headache thudded behind his eyes and he had to stop. So, he tucked himself further into a ball and just cried.   
Like a faggot baby, he thought.   
He didn’t know how much time passed, but he could hear Mike and El calling his name. Then, Troy and James came looking for him, screaming for ‘faggot zombie boy’ and laughing, and Will burrowed his head into his knees and held his breath until they disappeared.  
It wasn’t until someone knocked on the door that Will jumped.   
“Open up, Byers. I know you’re in there.” Steve’s voice filtered through the wood. Will froze. How could he possibly know? The doorknob jiggled again and Will bit his hand to keep his scream silent. “Listen, I’m not here to beat you up, okay? Dustin and the rest of the crew are all looking for you and he’s making me help…Plus, you need some social advice, kid.” Will couldn’t help but agree and social advice from Steve Harrington was hard to pass up, especially after screwing up so badly. So, he kicked the chair out of the way and the door opened to reveal Steve. His hair was a little messy, like he had run his hands through it one too many times.   
“Guess you kind of came out of the closet today and now you’re back in it, huh, Byers?” He said and Will ducked his head. “Sorry, bad joke.” Steve said and crouched down. “Look, what you did out there was stupid. I mean, stupidest thing you could have possibly done.” Steve said and Will was torn between crying again and asking Steve if this was a pep talk or a critique of Will’s latest decisions in regard to his love life. “But, I mean, I will admit, it took guts. More guts than your brother has, believe me.” Steve continued and Will looked up. “More guts than me, even.” Steve admitted and Will couldn’t help but smile a little.   
“You think?” He said. Steve nodded.   
“Yeah, of course. I mean, guts won’t do you much good for the next four years when you get your ass beat up every day, but yeah. You got guts, kid.” He said and Will laughed. He doubted Steve was joking about getting beat up ever yday, but he appreciated the sentiment.   
“Thanks.” Will said.   
“Don’t mention it. And I mean that, by the way, don’t tell anyone about this conversation.” Steve said with a smile and Will nodded. “Now, let’s get you out of here so Stan here can do his job,” An elderly gentleman in a janitorial uniform peered around the door at Will, who blushed, “-and we’ll get you to the Chief, who’s about to tear this place apart looking for you.”   
Will nodded and stood up, wiping his face with his shirt.   
As they walked down the hall, Steve admired his ‘battle wounds’ as he called them. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve had quite that much of a shiner appear in under an hour.” Steve commented and Will grinned again.   
“What do you mean you don’t know where he is?” Hopper’s bellow drifted down the hallway and Will ducked his head a little. He knew Hopper wouldn’t care, but that didn’t mean Will wanted to talk about this awful day ever again. It was Friday, so he wanted to go home, enjoy his last weekend of peace, and spend the rest of his life avoiding being tripped and spat on.   
They rounded the corner and Will drifted a little behind Steve as they walked toward the main office.   
“He wasn’t in class? And nobody called me? What kind of school is this?” Hopper said, leaning over the secretary’s desk. She seemed entirely unimpressed, which only served to infuriate Hopper more.   
“Calm down, Chief. Byers is right here.” Steve called and pointed at Will.   
A stampede of kids rushed toward Will, who tensed, waiting for an attack from his former friends.   
Dustin reached him first.  
“You son of a bitch!” He said with a grin. “You got your first kiss before me.”   
Will laughed.   
Lucas punched him in the arm. “Felt good, didn’t it?” he grinned and raised his eyebrows at Will. Max slapped him on the head, but gave a small smile to Will. El threw her arms around Will and called him a mouth breather for running away. Mike inspected the bruises on his face.   
“He really got you good, didn’t he?” Mike said. “Jerk.”   
“Yeah, I’m not sure he’s quite boyfriend material, Will.” Dustin said and nodded at the blood trickling down Will’s face.   
“Will.” Will looked up from his friends, a grin on his face, and then stopped smiling. Hopper glared at him and then at the seat on the bench next to him. Will sighed and walked over with his head down. “Sit.” Hopper said and Will sat.  
Hopper crouched down on the ground in front of him and grabbed his shoulders. “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” He growled, shaking Will gently.   
Will’s head snapped up. “But you said-.”   
“No, not whatever happened that got you beat up, but we’ll get to that in a minute. I’m talking about the running away and hiding without telling anyone where you are. I thought… doesn’t matter what I thought. Just don’t do it again, got it?”   
Oh. Will nodded, inspecting his sneakers. That made sense.   
“Now, let me look at that eye.” Hopper said and tilted Will’s head around to inspect the bruises and cuts. “Yeah, that looks like a decent shiner. That’ll hurt later.” Hopper said and Will noticed his temple throbbing.   
“So, you want to tell me what happened or do I have to go on a hunt for an hour for that too?” Hopper said, dropping Will’s face. Will blushed and fixated his gaze on the floor. “Will…Need to know what happened if I’m going to help you.”  
Will sighed and started talking.   
“I was late for history class because I had to ask my math teacher some questions and then Paul Nolson saw me in the hallway and he had just gotten beat up on by Troy and asked if I wanted to learn how to play the saxophone. He looked really sad, so I had to skip class, Hopper, not an option, and then we were outside in the school yard, and it was really fun even though I can’t play the saxophone at all and he was really nice and so I turned to ask him if he wanted to come play a campaign sometime,” Will took in the deepest breath he could and sped through the rest of the sentence, “andthenhekissedmeandthewhole  
schoolsawandthenIgotbeatupandthenIranawayandthenStevefoundme and now, here we are.” He finished and cringed away. Hopper may not care he was gay but he probably didn’t want Will flaunting it in front of the whole school.   
“So, basically what you’re telling me is you went on a date instead of going to history class, this little bastard kissed you in front of the whole school, and then beat you up?” Hopper clarified and Will was surprised he had gotten that much info out of his rapid-fire speech. He nodded.   
“Troy punched me too, I think. And I vomited.” He said, blushing again and burying in his face in his hands. He was so screwed.  
“Okay. Well, why don’t we go home, get you cleaned up, and then we’ll-?”   
“Excuse me, Chief Hopper. I need to see you and Will in my office please.” Will looked up to see Mr. Taylor, the principal, glaring down at them. He looked particularly disgusted by Will and glanced away when Will looked up at him.   
Behind him, Will spotted a stout woman with white hair in a pale blue sweater and Paul, glaring at Will over her shoulder.   
Shit.   
Hopper stood up, frowning, and guided Will into the main office. Paul and, presumably his grandmother, followed. The secretary raised an eyebrow at Will but didn’t smile at him the way she normally did. He swallowed and ducked his head down.   
Four chairs were lined up in front a massive, imposing desk. Mr. Taylor settled himself behind the desk while Hopper and Paul’s grandmother sat in the middle two chairs, the boys on the outside corners.   
Mr. Taylor clasped his hands together.   
“It has come to my attention that Will and Paul engaged in some inappropriate behavior today.” He started.   
“Yeah, that brat punched my kid.” Hopper said and Will almost beamed at being called Hopper’s kid.   
“Not what I was referring to, Chief Hoppers.” Mr. Taylor said with a sigh. Will frowned. Kissing boys as a boy wasn’t banned, was it? He hadn’t heard of any rules regarding anything of that nature.   
“Then what?” Hopper said. A pause followed where Mr. Taylor and Paul’s grandmother stared pointedly at Will and then Paul. “Christ, the kiss? You’re kidding, right?”   
“No, Chief Hopper. We take breaking the rules very seriously here at Hawkins Middle School.” Mr. Taylor said and Hopper sat back, muttering.   
“What rule?” Will said and ducked down when Mr. Taylor frowned in disgust at him.   
“A rule that was listed in the handbook handed out at the beginning of the year.” He replied. “No public displays of affection between romantic couples such as cuddling, hand holding, or…kissing.”  
Will buried his face in his hands. Now, he was about to get expelled.   
“And did you drag Steve Harrington’s ass in here too every time he got caught in some closet with a girl?” Hopper snarled. “Because I would bet he would say no, you didn’t.”   
Mr. Taylor sighed. “Steve Harrington was an exemplary student during his time at Hawkins Middle School, an excellent athlete and student, so no, I did not have to ‘drag his ass’ in here, as you so kindly put it.”   
Hopper made a snarky retort and Will tuned out for a moment to peer around Hopper at Paul and his grandmother.   
Paul smirked at him over his grandmother’s shoulder and Will couldn’t tell why. Meanwhile, Paul’s grandmother glared daggers at him until he looked away.   
“What about my grandson?” She said as the argument between Hopper and Mr. Taylor lulled.   
“He will be serving detention in a separate classroom.” Mr. Taylor said. Detention? Seriously?   
“But he raped me!” Paul burst out and threw an accusatory finger at Will, who just blinked.   
“Excuse me?” Hopper said. “My understanding is you not only initiated the kiss, which doesn’t constitute rape, you little twerp, but then you beat Will up afterwards.”   
“Only because he used me.” Paul snapped back.   
“What?” Will said. “I didn’t use anybody!”  
“Oh yeah?” Paul said and Will could’ve sworn he smirked again. “We slept together last night and you said you wanted to be my boyfriend forever and then today, after we kissed and it came out we were dating, you denied it!”   
“That’s not true!” Will said, blushing with his fists clenched. He turned to Hopper. “That’s not true, Hopper, I swear. I said we weren’t dating because he announced to the whole school we were when we aren’t-we were just kissing-but we didn’t… didn’t do that other thing.”   
Hopper nodded and motioned for Will to sit back down. Will hadn’t even realized he had stood up. “I know, kid. If you can’t say the word, you definitely didn’t commit the act.” Hopper said and Will thought he might die of embarrassment on the spot. What the hell did that mean? Of course, he could say the word, he obviously just didn’t want to say it in front of his principal.  
“Look, Will was at home all last night.” Hopper said. Mr. Taylor shrugged.   
“While I am not inclined to believe Will, I do believe you, Chief Hopper.” He said and turned to Paul and his grandmother. “I see no evidence of foul play. Now, I think all of you have a lot of talking to do tonight about what is and what is not appropriate behavior. I suggest all of you go home and come back on Monday, ready to serve detention.”   
Hopper growled about fair treatment and suing Mr. Taylor’s ass, but stood up and guided Will toward the door. All of a sudden, Paul slammed into Will, almost knocked him over, and then sped out the door. His grandmother followed without a word.   
“You sure did pick a weird one, Will.” Hopper said. Will nodded and put his hand in his sweatshirt pocket. His hand brushed against a piece of paper.   
He waited until they got home and Hopper told him to go change clothes to pull it out of his pocket.   
Scribbled in strangely familiar handwriting were the words ‘Watch out, faggot’.   
Will swallowed hard and stuffed the paper into the bottom of his backpack.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Graphic depiction of murder/violence

Monday came way too fast. Will spent the weekend hanging out with the crew at their houses and avoiding all public places. He knew the whole town was buzzing with the news that Will Byers and Paul Nolson had kissed out in the school yard.   
On Sunday, the phone rang and Will picked it up.   
“Hello?” He said, waiting for Mike’s voice to ask him to come over or something. He distantly wondered why Mike didn’t use the walkie talkie when his mother’s voice drizzled through the line.   
“What the fuck were you thinking? Are you crazy?” Joyce said, her words running over each other. Will turned away from where Hopper and El were playing cards.   
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know-.”  
“Didn’t know what? That you shouldn’t kiss boys? Your father didn’t call you ‘fag’ often enough for that to sink in?” She was drunk, Will knew. He knew she said nasty things she didn’t mean when she was drunk but his eyes still burned with tears. This, if possible, was so much worse than what happened Friday.   
“I know, I’m sorry…”  
“You’re sorry? How do you think this makes me look, Will? Like I can’t raise my kids right or something? Like they have to be taken away so I don’t turn them all into fags? Well, too late Hawkins! The Byers family is just a bunch of fags, fags, fags, fags…” She kept going but Will suddenly felt the phone plucked out of his hands. He spun around to see Hopper’s face turn bright red as he put the phone to his ear and then hang up without another word.   
Before Hopper could say anything, Will bolted and dove under the bed for the first time in a long time and didn’t come out until after El went to sleep.   
He woke up too soon after the phone incident, crawling out from under the bed and stumbling into his clothes. He poked at breakfast with a fork until Hopper cleared the plates and then inched around his room, collecting his homework as slowly as possible.   
“C’mon, kid. Time to face the music.” Hopper said from the door. Will sighed but followed him out to the truck.   
They pulled up in front of school and Will could already feel the stares on his face. He crouched down in the seat.   
“Can we go back?” He said and Hopper shook his head.   
“No. Just remember if it gets too much, Mr. Clarke said he left the AV room key on top of the doorway so you can go hang out in there, okay? Or go to the front desk and call me. Good luck, kid.”   
Will nodded and opened the door to join El on the sidewalk.   
The truck pulled away and, much like Friday, students scrambled to get out of Will’s way.   
He and El joined the rest of the crew and they all watched in awe and horror as the whole student body struggled to cram itself into the narrow sides of the hallways so as to stay as far away from Will as possible.   
“Do you think this is what being a celebrity feels like?” Dustin whispered.   
“No, Dustin, I think this is what being the biggest losers of the school feels like.” Lucas snapped and then apologized to Will who just shrugged and kept his head down.   
He arrived at his locker without too much incident. Just a lot of stares and whispers. But once his friends disappeared to their own lockers, someone spun Will around and slammed him into the locker with a hand around his throat.   
“Hey, fag. How you doing?” Troy said, inching his face way too close for comfort. Will struggled to breathe and tried to pry Troy’s fingers from his neck.   
“Hey! Let him go!” Mike yelled and dropped his textbooks to tug on Troy’s arms.   
Will saw spots just as Dustin and Lucas spun around and Troy’s face loomed closer. So, he did the only thing he could think of. He jerked his head forward, smashing his forehead into Troy’s. Troy shrieked, clutching his head and dropping Will, before sprinting away.   
“You’re dead, Byers. You hear me? Dead!” He yelled over his shoulder. Mike helped him to his feet.   
“That was awesome.” Lucas said.   
“Yeah, I might regret it later.” Will said, his eyes catching on Paul’s face as the other boy walked toward him down the hallway.   
Paul’s skin was pale and sweaty. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and his hair was slick with grease. Will wondered if he had gotten sick over the weekend.   
He smirked at Will as he passed and adjusted the large duffel bag over his shoulder. Will frowned. Weird.   
He made it through the first two periods of the day without any more fights. Just a lot of glares. A boy in his math class hit Will in the back of the head with a piece of paper with a fairy drawn on it. Will unfurled it only to have Max snatch it out of his hands and chuck it right back at the boy’s face.   
He turned back to the lesson, grinning.   
Will’s stomach rumbled during the period before lunch. Normally, he loved Mr. Clarke’s class, but today he couldn’t concentrate on the lesson on adaptations. He should have eaten breakfast.   
“A worm, as many of you know, can regenerate after part of it has been cut off. Starfish can regrow legs. All of these adaptations are helpful in the event of physical trauma. Anyone think of any adaptations humans have to help in the event of the crisis?” Mr. Clarke said. Will’s focus drifted to the door. He jumped when he spotted Paul’s face peering back at him.   
“Fight or flight, my lord?” Dustin said.   
“Yes!” Mr. Clarke said and pumped a fist in the air.   
Will turned to Mike to ask what Paul was doing here when the door opened.  
“Ah, a visitor.” Mr. Clarke said with a smile and turned toward Paul. His skin was paler than it had been this morning, but he seemed weirdly calm to Will. Like he had finally settled on a decision and he was happy with it. He had the big, black duffel bag draped across his arms, hiding his hands and Will’s stomach growled, but not with hunger.   
“What can we do for you, Paul?” Mr. Clarke said just as Will opened his mouth to warn Mr. Clarke. He didn’t know what of or why, but Paul looked different. He didn’t look anything like the sweet, laughing boy Will had kissed last Friday. His eyes were darker, Will thought. Almost black.   
Paul smirked at Will and shifted his arms so the duffel bag landed on the floor. Will didn’t hear it land but he wondered why. Shouldn’t the fabric have made some sort of sound, he thought, staring at the large gun in Paul’s hands.   
“You can die.” Paul said and pulled the trigger on the gun in his hands.  
The room exploded into screams and chairs clattering to the floor. Will watched, frozen, as Mr. Clarke jerked with every bullet that smashed into his body. Will lost count after ten.   
“Son of a bitch, what do we do?” Dustin yelled at Will. He tried to respond, say break the window and run, or distract Paul or something, but he just shook.   
Fight or flight, he thought. What the hell was this then? Freeze?   
Paul turned and unleashed a rapid-fire wave of bullets into the opposite side of the room, shrieking with laughter as he did. Jennifer Hayes went down, blood pouring out of one eye. One kid just slumped over his desk. Will knew his name, he did, but he couldn’t bring it to mind. Tim? Tommy? Troy? Ruby tried to run for the door, but then her head just disappeared in a spray of blood. Maxwell climbed onto the counter to open a window but a quick bullet to his back brought him down. Hailey screamed and charged Paul, a chair over her head, but hit the floor with a horrible thud a moment later.   
Suddenly, Mike shook Will’s shoulder.   
“Help me lift this desk up and throw it at the window.” He said.  
Will scrambled to his feet and helped the other three boys and Max lift Will’s desk into the air and heave it at the window.   
The glass should have shattered, but instead it just cracked, the damage spiraling out into the corners with jagged fingers.   
“Shit!” Lucas said.   
“Again!” Will ordered, glancing over at Paul who had just turned his attention to their side of the room as they picked the desk up.   
“Get down!” Will screamed, threw himself on top of the nearest person to him, Mike, and covered his head with his hands.   
Bullets screeched through the air and splinters showered Will’s head. Something hot and warm stained his leg and he bit back tears. Dustin yelled. Max cursed. Someone else screamed. Mike’s body heaved underneath Will, who couldn’t feel or hear his own beating heart. Just the bullets shattering his life and those around him. And Paul and his laughter.   
“How’s this for payback, Byers?” He yelled and Will burrowed his face into the familiar scent of Mike’s t-shirt.   
He had to think of something, ducking would only help them so long. Hide behind a desk? Try breaking the window again? Crawl up to Paul and knock the gun out of his hands?   
He was glad El wasn’t here. Her powers may have been useful, but he wasn’t sure even she could have reacted fast enough to stop the bullets. Behind him, he could hear a girl sobbing and he couldn’t tell if it was Max or not. Beneath him, Mike trembled and gasped for air. More screaming as Paul aimed the gun toward the floor at the back of the room.   
Paul was saving Will and his friends for last, Will thought, glancing up to gauge when they needed to move. He couldn’t see much as plastic and wood rained down on his head.   
Then, the bullets stopped. Will looked up, expecting to see Hopper punching Paul’s face, gun knocked out of his hand.   
Instead, Paul chucked his gun away and reached towards the duffel bag. Will spotted metal glint behind the black fabric.   
Fight or flight.   
And they had already tried flight.   
Ignoring the voice screaming in his head to stay down and wait for Hopper, just wait for Hopper, he had to be there soon, they must have been lying on the floor for hours, Will pushed himself up off of Mike. His foot slipped on something wet and Will forced himself not to glance back and see what it was. He only had one chance at this.   
He barreled toward Paul, ignoring Mike screaming his name.  
Paul twisted around, gun raised, and Will watched his finger twitch on the trigger. The gun fired, the noise almost knocking Will back, but he just staggered a little and then slammed into Paul, the gun caught between their bodies.   
The gun shivered and Will heard more firing. He grappled with Paul’s hands on the trigger, trying to twist the gun away from his peers and himself while wrangling Paul’s finger off the trigger.   
The gun kept shivering, whispering words Will couldn’t understand. The door to the classroom exploded, showering Paul and Will with sharp splinters that reminded Will of the shards of glass piercing his eye. He jammed his elbow into Paul’s face and the kid’s head snapped back. Will tried to wrench the gun out of his hands, but slipped on the suddenly wet floor and landed on his back. He stared up at the brown eyes he used to think were nice. They had lightened a little, back to brown. But Paul kept smirking at him. Why the hell couldn’t he stop smirking at Will, like he knew a secret Will didn’t?   
“What?” Will said and started coughing. He leaned over to his side, spat on the floor, and was surprised to see blood there.   
“Nothing. Just here to see watch a little fag die.” Paul said. Will thought that was a pretty weak punchline, considering he had kissed Paul and was apparently internally bleeding, so yeah, he was going to watch Will, a fag, die.   
He opened his mouth to point this out when Paul lifted the gun and Will couldn’t help thinking the word ‘what’ was a shitty last line. And this, this felt totally different then when he had stared down the barrel of a gun last time. He had been in control then, pulled the trigger when the moment felt right.   
The moment did not feel right to Will. He had so much energy he was practically on fire. He wanted to laugh, to get up and run. Just run and run and run. Away from the crying behind him and the hot substance seeping into his leg again.   
Paul smirked and Will wanted to punch that stupid look right off his face. Anger seized Will and kicked out at Paul’s legs, but the kid danced back, still smirking and aimed the gun at Will’s face. Will refused to close his eyes. He just stared at Paul’s brown eyes and wondered how he had ever considered them nice.   
Paul’s finger moved towards the trigger at the same moment his head snapped back, blood drizzling out of a hole just behind his eye.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Graphic depiction of murder/violence/death

Will blinked.   
Paul collapsed and the gun landed on the floor with a loud shriek that made Will flinch.   
He tried to sit up and turn around to check on his friends, but when he began to curl forward, sudden pain split through his abdomen and he crashed back down, panting. He hadn’t noticed that earlier. The pain.   
Or the way the world kept spinning. It couldn’t have been doing that earlier. He had seen Paul’s face so clearly, with his calm eyes and steady trigger finger. Now, Will couldn’t even distinguish the faces of the bodies pouring into the room, all decked out in black armor and masks with massive guns in their hands. Will wondered if they were going to start shooting them too. He wasn’t sure he could try and wrestle a gun out of their hands though. Unlike Paul, they loomed over Will. Also, the world wouldn’t quit spinning.   
He craned his head around but could only see Dustin’s foot on the floor. He couldn’t even hear his friend swearing. He couldn’t hear anyone except the black soldiers who filed past Will, scanning the room.   
“All clear.” Someone said and then one of them kneeled down next to Will and lifted the mask off his face. Will’s heart fell a little when a man much younger than Hopper looked back at him.   
“Hey, buddy. Can you tell me your name?”   
“Will.” Someone said and it sounded like him but Will couldn’t remember pronouncing that syllable. The young man nodded.   
“Okay, Will. I’m Ed. We got a bunch of paramedics here to get you to the hospital, okay?”   
Will craned his neck around but couldn’t see Dustin’s shoe anymore. Had he moved? Was he alive?   
“My friends?” He said and Ed glanced around the room. Will saw destruction and carnage reflected in his eye.   
“Yeah, your friends are fine. Like I said, we got a lot of paramedics coming.” He lied. Will tried to sit up again, but screamed this time as fire ripped through his ribs. Ed put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay still, buddy. Paramedics are going to be here in a second.” He said and Will opened his mouth to tell him he didn’t care about any paramedics, he wanted to see if his friends were okay, when he heard a familiar voice billowing down the hall.   
“I need to see him!” Hopper said and then he was there, in the doorway, gun out, standing where Paul had stood only seconds before. Will watched Hopper’s eyes graze over the scene, hand going to his mouth. Then, his eyes locked on Will’s and Will tried to smile, but ended up leaning over into a coughing fit.   
“Christ.” Hopper said and then Ed was gone and Hopper was there. “Christ, Will.” He repeated. His eyes skimmed over Will’s body, looking for obvious wounds and   
apparently, he found some because he stretched his hand out toward Will’s torso and then his leg and Will spotted blood-Will’s blood-on Hopper’s hand before he wiped it on his jeans.   
“You’re going to be fine, kid. You hear me?” Will nodded and flashed back to sitting on the bench outside the main office, worried about his reputation and some stupid insults. He should have been worrying about his friends’ lives.   
More footsteps rushed in and Hopper disappeared from view and Will tried to look for him, but someone grabbed his face and flashed a light into his eyes. He threw his hands up to protect his face, but the paramedic held them against his chest.   
“We’ve got blood in the mouth.” Someone said. “Can you breathe okay?” It took Will a second first to realize they were talking to him and second, he could in fact breathe. Air swept in and out of his lungs with ease. He opened his mouth to explain this but his tongue hurt and felt larger than normal, so he just nodded. “Looks like he bit his tongue pretty good.” That explained a lot.   
“He’s got a wound on his left side and his right leg. Both look through and through, though the leg wound seems deep.”   
Explained why he couldn’t sit up. He couldn’t feel any pain in his leg or his torso, except when he moved, but they were kind of numb. He kept looking around for Hopper but now, someone was checking his ears for something.   
What the hell?   
“Hopper?” He said and his voice sounded too breathy, like there was too much oxygen puffing up the syllables.   
“Yeah, I’m right here, kid.” A hand rubbed his forehead and Will relaxed, just a little. Hopper hadn’t left.   
“Friends?” Will said.   
“They’re gonna be fine, just like you, okay? Don’t worry about them, they’ve all got paramedics looking at them. Just focus on your breathing, Will, they say it’s a little shallow.” Breathing? He could breathe fine. He proved his point by inhaling and exhaling as quickly as he could.  
“Slow down, Will.” Hopper said but Will shook his head.   
He needed to go fast. Needed to get out and run and never stop. He tried to sit up again but hands held his shoulders down so he only managed to lift his head up a little. He sat back almost immediately. His entire left side was soaked in blood and his right leg looked the same, except he could see the hole in jeans where the bullet had torn through and taken a chunk out of his leg. He didn’t even know when that happened.   
“Will, stay still.” Hopper said.   
“Friends?” Will said and he sounded like he was panting.   
“They’re fine.” Hopper repeated, but his eyes flicked to the left, where Will knew his friends had been lying not that long ago.   
“Friends don’t lie.” Will said and Hopper just shook his head.   
“They’re all alive, okay? I promise they’re all alive.” He said and Will relaxed. Alive was good. Will was alive. Hopper was alive. El was alive.   
“El?” He said.   
“El’s fine. She’s in the auditorium with all the other kids. Your class was the only one… the only one that got attacked.” Hopper said and Will nodded. He could feel hands poking and prodding his leg and suddenly, pain ripped up and down both sides of his body and he gasped, hands struggling to reach down to grab his side. Hopper grabbed his hands and barked something, but Will couldn’t hear.   
“Will, stay with me, okay? Just stay awake.” Hopper said and Will struggled to keep his eyes open. It would be so nice to just drift off and let Hopper deal with everything. But then he thought of his friends. And El, trapped in an auditorium with no clue if they were okay. He was surprised she hadn’t busted out yet. His eyes snapped opened as something pinched his arm.   
“It’s just some pain meds, Will.” Hopper said.   
“You didn’t say anything about needles.” Will said and Hopper laughed.   
“Sorry, kid.”   
Will stayed awake but the world seemed to blur past him. At one point, he saw a flash of red hair whizz past him and he started screaming Max’s name.   
“Will, she’s okay. She’s okay, kid. They’re just moving her.” Hopper said as he struggled to sit up.   
He could hear Dustin cursing. And Mike walked past him, wrapped in a blanket with a gash on his forehead, but otherwise unhurt. He smiled at Will before Will could do anything but blink at him. He heard Lucas a few minutes later, answering questions about his name and birthday.   
His friends were okay. Or alive anyway.   
He decided not to think about Jennifer Hayes or Mr. Clarke or Troy. Not until later.   
They eventually got him on a stretcher and moved him to a different classroom Will didn’t recognize. All the desks had been shoved to the side as far as he could tell. Hopper helped him sit up and they propped his stretcher up so he could see better. The whiteboard had names listed on it. His, Mike’s, Lucas’s, and Dustin’s. Max’s name was listed under the title ‘Hospital’ and Will swallowed.   
“Is Max okay?” He said to Hopper.   
“Yeah, a desk fell on her arm and it broke, but she’s okay.” Hopper said.   
Lucas stared at him from his own stretcher, his shirt sleeve ripped off and a bandage already stained red coating his arm. Will tried to smile at him but it felt fake and Lucas didn’t respond so Will stopped.   
He couldn’t see him, but he could heard Dustin cursing as his mother sobbed. Will wasn’t surprised when Dustin’s voice cracked and he stopped talking. Will felt like crying too.   
Mike sat across the room from him on a desk, eyes on the ground. He only glanced up when his mother appeared and ran across the room to hug him, followed closely by Nancy, carrying Holly, and his dad. The Sinclair’s showed up a few minutes later with Erica, who hugged Lucas and offered him one of his action figures that he’d been missing since Halloween.   
“Is El coming?” Will said. He wanted to see she was okay with his own two eyes. Hopper nodded.   
“Should be here in a couple minutes.” He said, running a hand through his hair.   
“Do we have to go to the hospital?” Will said.   
“Normally, I’d say yes, but there were a lot of… injuries and the hospital might have its hands full. So, either you’ll go to the hospital in the next town over or maybe the paramedics will come stitch you up.” Hopper said. Will’s stomach, so hungry earlier, jolted at the word ‘injuries’.   
“He was saving us for last.” Will said and Hopper jumped a little.   
“We’ll talk about it later, kid.” He said and Will wanted to argue, wanted to scream about every detail of the last horrid hours of his life. He glanced at the clock on the wall and blinked.   
It wasn’t even lunchtime yet. They had ten minutes left in the period. How was that possible?  
He opened his mouth to ask Hopper when Mrs. Wheeler appeared, puffy eyed and wrapped her arms around Will. He bit back a wince as pain lit up his side.   
“Mike said… Mike said you covered him.” She said in a wobbly voice. Will glanced over at Mike who blushed and rolled his eyes. Will mimicked the movement but smiled at Mrs. Wheeler when she let go.   
“You did what?” Hopper said. Will shrugged, then winced at the movement.   
“I fell on top of Mike.” He said.   
“You fell on top of Mike?”   
“I guess it was more of a dive.”  
“You dived on top of Mike?”   
“When Paul came in, well… I froze at first and then we threw a desk at the window-.”   
“A desk.”   
“-because he was blocking the door but the window didn’t break and then we had   
to duck.” Will explained. Hopper closed his eyes and inhaled. Will thought he might yell at him, but he just ruffled Will’s hair with a shaking hand.   
“Okay.” He said in a not okay at all voice. Will opened his mouth to ask him about it when he heard footsteps pounding against the door and then El was on top of him, squeezing his neck.   
“Mouth-breather.” She murmured in his ear. Then, she disappeared and hugged Mike a moment later before disappearing to Lucas and presumably, Dustin. She came back and sat at the end of Will’s stretcher and told him about the lock-down that they all assumed was a drill until someone pointed out Mr. Clarke’s class wasn’t there and El started getting worried. Then, Mr. Taylor made an announcement that a shooter had been caught and then called a list of names up for families of the people in the class.   
Will listened, fascinated by the other side of the story. El kept mentioning how it took forever and was pretty boring for awhile. But he couldn’t imagine anything being boring ever again. It was all so exciting. Not the shooting, but the mundane. Like the color of Lucas’s shirt or the bow in his little sister’s hair. Or the way Mike’s chest kept a steady up down rhythm. Or even the hum of Dustin’s mother in the background. All so exciting and real and how had he not noticed all these details before? The world glowed around him and noises bounced back and forth in his hearing. Sometimes, he could Hopper calling his name. Then, other times he could hear Mike yelling his name. Or he could feel El shaking his feet. He watched the glow of the paramedics’ reflective jackets as they rushed in. It wasn’t until they strapped something over his face that it felt uncomfortable. The world began to dim, the translucence drifting away. He tried to tug whatever thing that had over his face but it wouldn’t budge. He started to panic, realizing he couldn’t breathe. He was moving, flying out of the room, past Mike, and pausing outside a set of lockers. Will writhed, trying to get the thing off of his mouth, while gasping for air.   
“Will, take a deep breath. You’ll feel better if you just take a deep breath.” Someone said and he looked at El, frantically shaking his legs. That should hurt, he thought. He couldn’t hear her scream when Hopper picked her up and dragged her off the stretcher, kicking.   
He opened his mouth to yell at Hopper to put her back, he liked El on his stretcher, and clear, pure oxygen flooded his lungs. The world dimmed and then lit up again in wild colors before drifting back to the middle. The thing around his mouth was an oxygen mask, he realized, staring at his fingers that had turned a sort of purple color. Weird. Someone draped a blanket over him and Will realized he was absolutely freezing when he hadn’t been before. Hopper returned to his side and El climbed back up onto the stretcher, wiping her face clear.   
“You okay, Will?” Hopper said.   
“Cold.” Will replied. “Can we go home?”   
Hopper sighed and shook his head. “No, we’re going to be here for awhile, kid. Why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll go look for another blanket for you?” Hopper said and Will nodded, even though he couldn’t imagine ever sleeping again. He looked down at El who was staring at him like he might disappear. He opened his mouth to tell her it was okay.   
“Not okay.” She said. “Never okay.” Will couldn’t help but agree, so he settled back into the pillow, surprising at how soft it was, and stared at the dotted ceiling. 

He didn’t realize he fell asleep until he woke up. El was curled up at the end of the stretcher, also asleep. He glanced around the room. Lucas was gone and all the names had been erased on the whiteboard. He couldn’t hear Dustin behind him. Across the room, Mike talked to Powell in a low voice while his mother stroked his hair. Hopper spoke to Callahan, pointing at different things on a sheet of paper.   
Will resettled himself back on the bed, ready to drift back to sleep, when Powell waved goodbye to Mike and walked over to Will.   
“Hey, kiddo.” Powell said and Will grinned a little. He knew Hopper thought Powell and Callahan were dumbasses and maybe they were, but they always brought puzzles or candy for Will when he came into the station. Said they knew the Chief was no fun so they had to provide Will with entertainment.   
“Hi.” He said.   
“Long day, huh?” Powell said. Will nodded. “You mind telling me what happened this morning?”   
Will gave a recap of the morning, skimming over Troy choking him and focusing on Paul smirking at him with the bag across his shoulder in the hallway and how Will spotted him lurking outside the classroom before he came in and the way Mr. Clarke twitched violently whenever a bullet hit him and how they tried to throw the desk but it didn’t work and then how they all lay there for awhile until Paul paused to reload and Will got up and tried to tackle him and how it didn’t really work and how Paul’s head snapped back and how the room seemed to shake with the sound of the gun hitting the floor. Hopper wandered over toward the end and Will kept one eye on Powell taking notes and the other on the shadows crossing Hopper’s face. Hopper nodded at Powell when he walked away and then he rounded on Will.   
“Don’t you ever play hero again, got it?” He growled and Will shook his head, trying to clear his hearing to make sure he heard right.   
“What?” He said.  
“Tackling Paul? That was stupid… that could have gotten you killed.” Hopper said with a frown.   
“Steve says you can be stupid and have guts.” Will replied and Hopper rolled his eyes.   
“Harrington has never been to a shooting before. I have. That sort of stuff is how you get killed, Will.” Hopper said.   
“You would have tackled him. And it didn’t work anyway.” Will snapped back. Hopper ran a hand over his face.   
“You don’t do something just because I would.” He said in an exhausted voice.   
“Why?” Hopper seemed like a pretty good guy to Will.   
“Because… I’m not mad at you, Will, I just didn’t realize how close you came to dying.” Hopper said and Will leaned back against the stretcher. Oh. Will hadn’t totally realized either. His stomach rolled as he replayed all the times a bullet could have sliced through his head or his eye like Jennifer… He shuddered and something on his face must have changed because Hopper had a bucket in front of him just in time for Will to lean over and vomit.   
Once he was finished, he wiped his mouth with his bloody sleeve. He was sick of this room and this stupid school. “Can we go? Please?” He said.   
“Yeah, let me grab your crutches.” Hopper said.   
It turned out Will’s legs and arms shook too much for him to use the crutches so   
El carried them and Hopper carried Will. He buried his face into Hopper’s shirt when they exited the school and journalists swarmed around them.   
“Is that Will Byers?”   
“Will, is it true you attacked the shooter with a knife?”   
“Can you identify the shooter by name?”   
Will tried to make himself as small as possible, even after Hopper placed him in the front of the truck and the journalists leered at him through the window.   
“Mouth breathers.” El muttered behind him.   
The truck took off and then Hopper was carrying him again even though Will didn’t remember getting out of the car. Then, softness snatched his body and he could see El’s bed and the space underneath it. Safe, he thought.   
“Don’t even think about it, Will. You stay on that bed.” Hopper said and Will stilled and waited for him to shut the door so he could climb under the other bed.   
But Hopper never shut the door or Will somehow fell asleep before he did.


	10. Chapter 10

Hopper hadn’t known there had been a shooting until after the SWAT Team got there or he would have insisted on going in with them. He had been across town, settling an argument between a divorced couple when his radio crackled and Flo’s voice shook his whole world.   
Shooting at Hawkins Middle School. Unknown number of shooters, unknown number of hostages and victims. He had asked if all the kids had been accounted for and she replied that most of them had been, including El, but not Will.   
Upon arriving at the school, he had to shove past a lot of cops and SWAT people to get into Mr. Clarke’s classroom. Mr. Clarke himself was lying behind his desk, blood pooling out of multiple holes in his body. There were other bodies everywhere, some covered with blankets, some staring at the wall or ceiling with blank eyes. 23 kids in the class. Five made it out. Somehow, they were the five he happened to know and he didn’t know who to thank for that but he most certainly wanted to.   
He had crouched next to Will first, who was lying in a pool of his own blood that dripped out of his side and the hole in his calf. Panic gripped and he tried to talk, tried to keep Will calm but all he could think about was how to explain to Joyce he had let her kid get shot. Once they confirmed there was no internal bleeding, the blood in Will’s mouth was from his tongue and lip, Hopper calmed down a little. He checked on the other kids and held Will down when he tried to sit up as Max rolled by.   
Will held up well, all things considering. Or maybe not well. He didn’t react much. He went into shock at one point which scared the shit out of Hopper, but that was his body reacting to the trauma, not his mind. He knew the kid hadn’t fully realized what had happened.   
He waited until Will fell asleep in his cot to go back into the family room.   
Christ.   
He collapsed on the couch and wrapped an arm around El who crawled onto the couch next to him. He buried his nose into her hair and thanked God for her familiar scent and the thud of her heart against his chest as she cried.   
He knew she had been scared. Terrified. He had been too.   
But Will… he couldn’t really imagine how Will felt. Hopper had been in firefights before, sure, but not when he was just sitting in school, listening to a teacher talk, surrounded by all his friends.   
Will slept soundly until about 2 in the morning when he woke up screaming and crying, clutching his side.   
Hopper tried to calm him down like he always did, but Will just shook his head and kept crying. Hopper eventually just picked the kid up and shut the door to the bedroom behind him so El could get some sleep that night.   
He ended up sitting outside on the porch with Will curled against his chest, just rocking back and forth until Will fell back asleep. It reminded him of rocking Sara to sleep at night, except one kid had been crying because she was an infant and the other because he had just been involved in a school shooting.   
He let Will sleep the rest of the night on the couch, just in case anything else happened. When Hopper woke up, El was in the kitchen, burning bacon. The kid loved her crispy bacon.  
When he rushed to open the door before the smoke alarms went off and El pretended not to notice his muttering, a gust of cold wind flooded the room, startling Will awake. Hopper watched his eyes fly open, stare at the unfamiliar ceiling, and then shut when reality slammed into him. He let Will curl up for a couple minutes so he could process the previous day and took over making breakfast.   
“Will, breakfast, kid.” Hopper called, expecting Will to not respond. But the kid rolled off the couch, landed on his bad leg, and collapsed onto the floor.   
Shit.   
He hurried over, peering over the couch to see Will sitting with the bad leg sticking out in front of him, hands grasping at his calf. “Crutches?” He offered but Will shook his head.  
“Don’t need any stupid crutches.” He muttered before heaving himself back to his feet and trying to take another step. This time, Hopper caught him before he hit the ground.   
Will’s face twisted and he bit his lip. The bruises from Friday hid most of his emotions but Hopper suspected the kid was about to scream.   
Will spent the day angry. At Hopper, at El, but especially at the world. He refused to eat anything or even touch it with a fork. He growled and cursed whenever he had to use the crutches. He didn’t ask about Jonathan or his mother, just seemed to accept their absence as his own fault. He shook his head when Hopper asked if he wanted to see any of his friends, but did ask again if Max was okay. Hopper hadn’t heard much, but as far as he knew, she was fine with a broken arm. Eventually, Will stumbled into the bedroom, slammed the door, and yelled at Hopper to leave him alone when the older man knocked.   
Hopper took it all in stride. He couldn’t blame the kid for being angry. The universe hadn’t exactly been treating him well lately. He waited until the afternoon sun started heating up the cabin to knock on the bedroom door again. No reply so he looked inside. Unsurprisingly, Will had tucked himself into the far side of the corner against the wall under the bed. He didn’t look at Hopper when the police chief called his name.   
“Go away.” He said and rubbed his face with his sleeve. Somewhere, Hopper had heard anger was typically a secondary emotion to cover up a more painful primary emotion.   
“Just checking on you, kid.” Hopper said and moved to the sit against wall closest to Will. He couldn’t see Will’s face, just the bottom of his bare feet.   
“Well, you shouldn’t.” Will replied.   
“How come?”   
Will’s foot twitched. “If I hadn’t told him we weren’t dating, he wouldn’t have gone on a shooting spree.” He said.   
Hopper rubbed his face. Christ. “That doesn’t make what happened your fault. Lots of people get their heart broken and don’t shoot their classmates.” He said. Will’s foot twitched again and Hopper wasn’t sure he had convinced the kid.   
A piece of paper rolled out from under the bed, reminding Hopper of another ball of paper rolling toward him so many months ago. He smoothed it out and swallowed at the words, ‘Watch out faggot’.   
“Where did you get this?”  
“Found it in my pocket on Friday. I assumed it was Troy but obviously, it wasn’t.”   
Hopper was torn between demanding why Will hadn’t told him immediately and how to tell the kid it probably wouldn’t have mattered in a convincing manner.   
“Will…”  
“I know I should have told you, but I didn’t want to cause more trouble.”   
Hopper sighed. “Will, even if you had told me, we couldn’t have traced it back to Paul, assuming it is from him, and even if somehow we had, he had decided to start the shooting long before we ever would have gotten to him.”   
They sat in silence for a long time after that. Hopper kept glancing at his watch, trying to gauge if Will had fallen asleep.   
“It’s the same handwriting.” Will said. Hopper looked down at the paper.   
“Same handwriting as the other note?” Hopper clarified and Will’s foot twitched which Hopper took to mean as a yes. Christ.  
“Why would Paul want you to kill yourself then?” Hopper reasoned and winced when Will’s fist slammed against the floor.   
“I don’t know. Why would he come in and kill Mr. Clarke and Jennifer and Maxwell and Ruby and stupid, fucking Troy?” Hopper could see the kid trembling. “Why did I kiss some psycho and…and like it?” His voice got small at the end. It was the first time Hopper had heard him admit the kid liked kissing Paul and Hopper ran a hand over his hair again.   
“Your mom went a lot farther than that with Lonnie-.”  
“Gross, Hopper.”  
“-and you don’t think she’s messed up for that right?”   
“Lonnie didn’t shoot a bunch of people.” Will argued. No, he just raped his kid, Hopper thought.   
“Same principle. Liking kissing or whatever with bad people doesn’t make you a bad person, Will. It just doesn’t.” Distantly, he couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with Will Byers. It might have been the weirdest, most insane conversation Hopper had participated in in a long time. More presently, he wondered if Will believed him.   
“What about my mom and Jonathan?” Will said in a quiet voice.   
Joyce.   
“I called your aunt’s house and she said Jonathan left a couple days ago. I tried calling your mom but didn’t get an answer. I’m sure both of them will call once they hear.” Hopper tried to sound sure of himself, but he doubted he succeeded. He actually wasn’t sure what would happen when Joyce found out. Jonathan, he could see coming back to check on Will. Joyce? He just didn’t know anymore.   
Hopper eventually coaxed Will out from under the bed and together, they walked into the family room. Will’s eyes locked on the television screen, where the news flashed school photos of different kids who had died.   
“El, turn it off.” Hopper said but Will shook his head.   
“I want to watch.” He said and sat down on the couch.   
“Eighteen students died yesterday in a shooting at Hawkins Middle School…” The reporter announced and Hopper watched Will’s mouth wrap around the number over and over again.   
“Paul Nolson was identified as the shooter by the police early this morning. Students at Hawkins Middle School described Nolson as ‘quiet’, ‘strange’, and displayed ‘inappropriate behavior’ late last week.” Hopper opened his mouth to tell El to turn it off but then Will’s school photo flashed on the screen and he had to stop and wonder how the hell they got that without Hopper’s permission.   
“Multiple students said this student, Will Byers, and Nolson were seen kissing on Friday before school ended. Did his homosexual tendencies cause Nolson to kill his classmates? Does this make Will Byers a danger to his peers? We asked several students what they thought.” The screen cut to a clip of a blond girl saying she hoped Will didn’t come back to school.   
“Others, like basketball superstar, Steve Harrington, refused to comment.” Hopper would have smiled at the next clip of Steve flipping off the camera as he walked away except tremors ran up and down Will’s body as tears drizzled down his face. He didn’t look at Hopper when the TV clicked off.   
“Turn it back on.” He whispered, still staring at the dark screen.   
“No way. They’re just scared, Will, and scared people say and do stupid, horrible things.” Hopper said and reached out to rub Will’s shoulder but the kid flinched away.   
“Well, maybe they should be scared.” Will muttered.   
“Yeah, scared of Hopper kicking their ass.” El interjected and Hopper almost turned to tell that wasn’t helpful but Will flashed a grin at her.   
Teenagers were weird, he decided. 

School resumed and Hopper didn’t bother trying to force El to go when none of her friends did. The crew gathered at the Wheeler’s and Will leaned on Mike to get down the stairs.   
“You guys hear about the memorial for Mr. Clarke and the others this weekend?” Dustin said once they settled in a circle on the floor. Nods swept around the room.   
“Bastard.” He muttered and no one disagreed.   
They tried to talk about normal things. Something stupid Erica or Holly had done, Dustin’s new kitten getting into trouble, Hopper’s grumpiness, anything other than the weight on their minds.   
“This is so weird.” Max sighed after a three-minute silence in which no one could think of anything to say.   
“I wish I could go back and just tell myself to enjoy the before time.” Will murmured.   
“I keep having nightmares, even though I didn’t even get hurt.” Mike said and El leaned her head on his shoulder.   
“That bastard ruined everything.” Dustin said.   
Will couldn’t exactly agree with Dustin. Max had her arm in a cast. Mike had a minor concussion and a gash on his forehead. Dustin had a concussion and a bullet wound across his thigh. Lucas’s arm had a hole in it.   
All in all, Will said, gazing around their circle on the floor, they came out of the shooting pretty okay.   
His disagreement must have shown on his face because Lucas zeroed in on him with a dark glare. “You disagree, Byers?” He said and Will jumped a little.   
“Um, kind of. I mean, we came out okay, considering.” Will said. Before anyone else could agree or disagree, Lucas snorted.   
“Try telling that to the families’ of the eighteen kids who got killed.” He said. Will shrunk a little. He hadn’t thought about that. He opened his mouth to apologize but Mike interjected.   
“I think Will was just talking about our group.” He said and Will nodded, looking hopefully at Lucas that Mike’s clarification would sweep the darkness out of his friend’s face.   
“Whatever.” He muttered and returned to staring at his hands. Will noticed Lucas and Max were not sitting next to each other for the first time in a while. Maybe that explained Lucas’ foul mood.   
“When are you guys going back to school?” Dustin said after a beat of awkward silence.   
“Friday, probably.” Max said and the rest of the group nodded. A memorial had been planned at school for the students who died and Mr. Clarke for Friday morning and they had the afternoon off to prepare for the community memorial that night. Will wasn’t sure how to prepare for a memorial, but he appreciated the time off. The idea of school made him nauseous.   
“Maybe we should all meet for breakfast at the diner and then go in together. I bet I could convince Nancy to drive some of us.” Mike said. Will nodded his agreement.   
“Hopper could drive too.” El said, head still on Mike’s shoulder.   
“Breakfast together would be cool.” Dustin said and Max nodded. The group turned to Lucas, who just shrugged.   
“I’ll talk to my mom.” He muttered.   
Max rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you say what’s really on your mind?” She growled and Will flicked his eyes between the two. Definitely fighting.   
Lucas glowered at her before nodding.   
“Fine. I don’t think Will should hang out with us anymore. Really, I don’t think he   
should be allowed back at school but I don’t get much of a say on that matter.” He said.   
Will rocked back, blinking. Mike and El both started shouting and Dustin gave Lucas a confused look.   
“You can’t just kick someone out of the party!” Mike said.   
“Who cares about the stupid party, okay? He got those kids killed and almost got us killed too.” Lucas argued and Will ducked his head, stifling back tears. Even Lucas, one of his oldest friends, thought it was his fault.   
“Will belongs here.” El said.   
“Will belongs in jail.” Lucas replied and Will flinched.   
“What the hell are you talking about, Sinclair? Will got shot at just as much as us.” Dustin interjected. Lucas rolled his eyes.   
“Isn’t it obvious? If Will hadn’t kissed Paul on Friday in public and then broke his heart in front of the whole school, Paul never would have brought those guns into school.” He said, echoing the same thoughts Will still had bouncing around his head. Suddenly, Will shivered as cold crept into his bones. He wanted to go to the cabin and crawl under El’s bed and never come out, no matter what Hopper said or how long he waited. Will was done with the outside world.  
Meanwhile, the outside world had exploded into chaos.   
El glowered at Lucas who made a face back.   
“Don’t make a face at her! That’s bullshit and you know it!” Mike said.   
“You don’t get a say in this, Mike. You didn’t get hurt.” Lucas replied. “You just can’t handle what happened so that’s why you’re having nightmares.”   
“Lucas, cool it.” Dustin said, waving a hand at Lucas to calm him down. But Lucas shook his head.   
“Don’t tell me to ‘cool it’. You know what I said about Will is true. If he hadn’t been such a fag, then none of this would have happened.” He growled.   
“Maybe-.” Dustin started.  
“What? You’re siding with him now?” Mike said.  
“No! I just think his logic may be sound.” Dustin said.   
“Logic? There’s no logic in his argument. Correlation does not imply causation.” Max said.   
“Don’t use Mr. Clarke’s words to defend his killer!” Lucas said.   
“That’s actually a scientific fact, Lucas.” Dustin pointed out.   
“I don’t care, okay? Will killed Mr. Clarke and all those kids, so he shouldn’t be allowed to hang out with us anymore.” Lucas said with his arms crossed and jaw set.   
“He didn’t make Paul shoot anybody, so just shut up.” Mike said. Will drew his knees up to his chest and jammed his head into the empty spot between them. Even with his hands clamped over his ears, he could hear the shouting that erupted around the room.   
“He broke the kid’s heart-.”  
“So? That doesn’t mean Paul gets to go kill people.”   
“That’s not what I’m saying.”   
“Uh, it kind of is what you’re saying, Lucas.”  
“No, it’s not! I’m pointing out the fact that if Will had just kept his weird urges in his pants, then all those kids and Mr. Clarke wouldn’t be dead and I wouldn’t have a fucking hole in my arm.”  
“So, this is really about you getting a boo-boo, isn’t it?”   
“No! Of course not!”   
“I don’t think you can argue Will has to keep anything in his pants when I know for a fact you and Max-.”   
“Shut up, Dustin!”   
“You told him?”   
“It just slipped out, okay?”   
“No, not okay!”  
“This isn’t about that. This is about Will and everything being his fault!”   
Something screeched and glass rained down on the floor. Will flinched against his knees and tried to picture the warm darkness beneath El’s bed. Shivers rumbled in his spine so he bent over more to keep his muscles taut.   
“Not helping.” El said. Quiet settled back in and Will lifted his head up long enough to realize El must have shattered all the light bulbs.   
“El, you’re totally helping me replace all those lights.” Mike said. El grinned a little and nodded. Across the circle, Dustin rolled his eyes at their flirting. Will would have joined him except Lucas huffed loudly and stood up, brushing glass off out of his hair.   
“You guys are all idiots.” He said and stomped up the stairs.   
Dustin glanced around at the frowning faces. “Should we go after him?” He said.   
“No.” Max growled, arms crossed and a blush spread across her fade.  
“Let him go.” El said.   
“Sorry.” Will whispered, guilt gnawing at his stomach.  
“Not your fault Will.” Mike said and wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders.   
“Yeah, Lucas is being an asshole.” Dustin said.   
“He’s having a hard time dealing with everything.” Max added.   
“Mouth breather.” El finished.   
Will nodded and burrowed back into his arms. The guilt had abated a little but he still wanted to hide somewhere.   
Footsteps stomped down the stairs behind Will and he half expected to hear Lucas, yelling at them.   
“Lucas just stormed out of the house. Everything okay down here?” Hopper said.   
“Yeah. Lucas said the shooting was all Will’s fault so we started fighting.” Mike said. Will heard the footsteps getting louder and buried himself deeper into his arms.   
“Will, you okay?” Hopper said, his breath tickling the back of Will’s neck. He nodded. Hopper’s hand appeared on his back, rubbing his spine gently. “You’re shivering. You feel sick?”   
Will shook his head again. He just felt cold. Freezing.   
“Think it might time for us to go home.” Hopper said. “I can fit two more kids in my truck. Max? Dustin? Need a ride?”   
After two ‘no’s, Hopper helped Will to his feet, who kept his eyes locked on the ground, and leaned heavily on the older man to get upstairs. Hopper said goodbye to Mrs. Wheeler and Dustin’s mom who had arrived to pick him up and they walked out the door.   
Will shivered through the ceremony on Friday, partially due to the cold temperatures and partially due to the even colder stares piercing his skin. Hopper didn’t let him go to the community vigil that night because it was outside. Will didn’t argue.   
He spent the weekend under two blankets, shivering, with Hopper checking his temperature every hour. Nothing unusual.   
He woke up Sunday afternoon with the sun on his face, feeling warm for the first time in forever. He curled a little deeper into the cushions, tensing a little when the phone rang, but relaxing when Hopper picked it up.   
“Hopper…No, he’s not here…Well, that’s too bad, Joyce, maybe you should have thought about that before you let Lonnie back into his life.” Hopper’s voice had an edge to it Will hadn’t heard before. He sat up and hobbled over to the kitchen. He leaned against the wall and motioned for Hopper to give him the phone. Hopper shook his head. Will thought about flipping him off but then he heard his mom’s voice, blurred by the phone and indecipherable, but she sounded clear, calm, and sober.   
“Okay, fine… here, he is… shut up, Joyce.” Hopper said and offered the phone to Will. He cradled it in his hands for a second before cramming it against his ear.   
“Mom?”   
“Will, it’s so nice to hear your voice.” She said and Will smiled. She sounded like his mom. The one who packed his lunch and sewed his Halloween costume together. He turned away from Hopper to rub his eyes clear.   
“I miss you.” He said.   
“Oh, I miss you too, baby, but we’re going to see each other really soon, okay?” Will frowned but felt something lighten in his chest.   
“Really?” He knew his custody time with Hopper was ending in two weeks and he had been too scared to ask what happened next. He knew Hopper couldn’t and didn’t want to keep him forever.   
“Yeah. I’ve… well, I’ve been doing therapy.” She said and Will’s back straightened.   
“So, you’re coming back soon?”   
“Yeah. My counselor says I will be ready on Wednesday morning, so I’ll pick you up right after school at Hopper’s, okay?” She said and Will nodded, too eager for Wednesday to speak. Then he realized his mom couldn’t hear him so he stuttered an ‘okay’. She asked to speak to Hopper and Will handed the phone back to the police chief. He stepped back, dazed. His mom was coming back. His mom had done therapy, so she could be here again and she was coming back again.


	11. Chapter 11

Wednesday seemed impossibly far away and after the following Monday, even more so.   
Kids shoved him into the walls, whispered things at him, and generally, just glared. The news had started petitioning to have Will removed from school. There were a dozen notes in his locker when he opened it, telling Will to leave school. Lucas refused to speak to anyone in their group and he ignored Will while everyone else glared at him, but the party felt wrong. Fractured. Like they were missing a limb. Mike told Will it was a similar feeling to when Will disappeared for a week in the Upside Down.   
On Tuesday, he walked in to find dozens of kids surrounding his locker. Mike and Dustin helped him shove people out of the way to help him get to his locker and they stepped back once they realized it was Will.   
He approached the locker with a tight stomach, unsure if he wanted to know what was waiting for him. Mike and Dustin rushed to tear the papers off his lockers and yell at the crowd, but Will still saw the hundred or so names signed in different colored pens, agreeing that Will should kill himself.  
Will spent the rest of the day in janitorial closet and only came out when Stan opened the door for the third time and raised an eyebrow at him.   
“Time to face the music, kid.” He said and helped Will to his feet. “You know, when I was a kid, this whole homosexual thing was strictly forbidden. But there was this boy down the street who I thought had to be most beautiful being in the whole world… I love my wife, but if I could have kissed that boy even once, I think my life might have turned out a lot differently.” He said and patted Will on the shoulder before grabbing a bucket and walking away.   
Will spent the rest of the day with a small smile on his face and ignored all the insults and glares. If Stan could make it through the past couple of decades, Will figured he could make it to Wednesday.  
Wednesday inched past Will and he forced himself to attend and pay attention to all his classes. Dustin, Max, El, and Mike kept smiling at him and counting down the minutes until school let out. They all knew his mom was coming to take him home. The last bell ended and Will jumped to his feet, scrambling to shove his books into his bag. He dropped one and was about to reach down to get it when Lucas appeared and handed it to him.   
“Thanks.” Will said and Lucas just nodded, but didn’t move. Will didn’t want to be rude, but he also really wanted to leave to go see his mom.  
“I should-.”  
“I heard your mom is coming back.” Will and Lucas spoke at the same time and then Lucas smiled a little.   
“Go. Tell her hi for me.” He said and Will grinned before turning away.  
Will walked as fast as he could on his injured leg and jumped into Hopper’s truck. Things weren’t fixed between him and Lucas, but maybe one day they wouldn’t be so bad at least.   
Joyce’s car wasn’t waiting for him when they got to the cabin and Will stopped bouncing in his seat. She had said she would be there by the time Will got home from school. He had heard Hopper tell her he got out at 3pm multiple times.   
El reached over and squeezed his hand. “Just a little late.” She said. Will nodded with a grin. Obviously.   
He had packed the night before and sat at the kitchen table with his bags and coat. His gaze flickered between the clock and the wall. His feet swung beneath him and his fingers drilled into the table top. He started planning all the things he was going to tell his mom about. Only happy stuff. Like Lucas telling her hi and giving him his book back today.   
Around 4pm, Hopper started giving him sympathetic glances and El handed him some crayons and paper to distract himself with.   
“She’s just a little late.” Will said, but El didn’t look convinced.   
Will refused to give up on his mom so easily. Maybe she had to fill out more paperwork than expected. Maybe she had stopped by the house to pick some stuff up.   
He started to ignore the clock and just stared at the window, tracking every movement he spotted. Most of the time, it was just birds or squirrels. Once Will jumped out of his seat when a deer leapt into the driveway and then sat back down, disappointed.  
“Will, you want to watch some TV?” Hopper said and Will jumped. He glanced at the clock and frowned. 5:45pm.   
“She’ll be here soon.” He said and Hopper just nodded and returned to the couch.   
At 6pm, Will poked at his mac n cheese. He had thought breakfast this morning would be his last meal at the cabin for a while. Hopper did make good mac n cheese, he told himself and tried to ignore the clock ticking in his head. He asked Hopper over dinner if he had the counselor’s phone number and Hopper agreed to call.   
“Yeah, I’m looking to see if Joyce Byers is still a patient there. She said I should call this number if… Yeah, I’m Jim Hopper…Okay, yeah…” Hopper’s face stayed absolutely neutral and Will knew he was doing it on purpose because he knew Will was watching.   
“Thank you.” Hopper said and hung up before turning to Will. “Counselor said she was planning to leave late this morning.” He said, but his words caught a little in his throat making both El and Will frown at him. Will decided he must have imagined it and nodded.   
“So, she’ll be here soon.” He said and watched the sun fall through the window.   
Will flinched when Hopper flicked on the lights after darkness completely took over the cabin. He couldn’t color, could barely breath. The emptiness in his stomach swirled.   
“She’ll be here soon.” He said to the window.   
He ignored El going to bed and the low hum of Hopper’s voice reading a book to her. Normally, he read to both of them but Will had resolved that last night had been his last time listening to Hopper read to him and El.   
When Hopper sat down at the table across from him, Will shook his head and pretended not to feel the burn of tears behind his eyes.   
“She’s coming.” His voice shook.   
“I’m not sure…” Hopper sighed and Will clenched his fists. He didn’t know who he was mad at but if Hopper gave up, Will could certainly take it out on him.   
“Maybe she got stuck in traffic or her car broke down. Either way, she’s not getting here tonight.” Hopper said.   
“No, she is! She has to!” Will said.   
“Will, you have school tomorrow and-.”  
“Fuck school!” Will slapped the table and a purple crayon spinning to the floor. “She said she was coming on Wednesday and so I agreed that I could make it to Wednesday if Stan could make it through decades of being in love with the boy down the street, but I can’t do that, Hopper... I can’t make it that long.” The tears arrived hard and fast and he collapsed against the table, burrowing his head into his arms and comforting himself with the familiar scent of wax and paper.  
Hopper tried to talk to him and Will lifted his head to tell him to go away when lights glistened out the window. Will jumped to his feet, a smile spreading across his face as his mother’s car bumped across the driveway.   
“She’s here! She’s here!” Will hollered, grabbing his bags and jacket and hobbling to the door as fast as he could.   
The winter night filled Will’s lung with fresh air and he felt like flying up and into the stars.   
“Mom!” He yelled and fell down the porch steps. He landed in the dirt, but scrambled to his feet before Hopper could help him up.   
He collided into her just as she shut the car door. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he pressed his nose into her blouse.   
She smelled a little different, but it was definitely her voice saying his name over and over again. After a minute or two, Will leaned back and shared a smile with his mom for the first time in months.   
He picked up his bags and threw them into the backseat of the car.   
“Joyce, can I talk to you for a second?” Hopper said and she nodded, but didn’t   
move away from Will, who had tucked himself under her arm.   
“Alone?” Hopper added. Will frowned for a second, but couldn’t keep it up. His mom was here and Hopper was probably just being a worrywart.   
“Hop, it’s late and he should really be getting to bed.” Joyce said.   
“I’ll call tomorrow?” Hopper said and Joyce nodded. Will gave Hopper a tight hug goodbye, a tiny pang of sorrow seeping into his heart when he realized he would probably be seeing Hopper a lot less often. But he would still pick him and El from school. Just like before.   
Hopper ruffled his hair and told Will to call if he needed anything. He made Will recite his phone number from memory before letting him go.   
Will jumped into the car and started chattering to Joyce about his progress with Lucas earlier that day. She nodded and smile at all the right places.


	12. Chapter 12

Will settled into a routine. Wake up in Jonathan’s room, eat breakfast with his mom, go to school, suffer through school with his ears and eyes closed, staying tucked into the middle of whatever group of friends he was walking with, come home from school, finish his homework, color until his mom got home from her job at a retail store, eat dinner, laugh at all of his mom’s terrible jokes, and then go to bed. Repeat.   
His leg got better and his ribs stopped hurting every time he stretched. His friends’ wounds healed too. Max still had a cast covering her entire arm, but they had all signed it and she let Will doodle on it. Joyce drove Will to school and Nancy picked him up along with Mike in the afternoons instead of Hopper. But he still spotted Hopper standing outside his truck, waiting for El, and made sure to wave. Hopper always waved and smiled back.   
The bullying improved. He still got shoved, but only once or twice a day and most kids stopped calling him a mass-murderer. The word ‘fag’ followed him like a duckling without a mother but he mostly ignored it. Even used it to describe himself a couple of times around Mike and laughed about it. Mike didn’t laugh as much and usually just gave Will a weird look until he stopped. Will didn’t know what to make of the fact that Mike laughed along with Will if Will said the same sentence but exchanged ‘fag’ with ‘gay’. Weird.   
At home, his mom was all smiles and laughter. She smelled like mint and perfume instead of alcohol and Will loved it. They didn’t talk about the Upside Down, Bob, Jonathan, Lonnie, or the shooting. Will could pretend everything was fine. Jonathan was just hanging out with Nancy and Will got to spend some quality time with his mom. Sometimes, she didn’t come home from work until after Will went to bed, but he knew money was tight, so it never really bothered him.  
Spring approached and Will spent most of April inside, staring at raindrops on the window. On Monday, thunder washed out the sound of his mother sobbing in her room. He had gotten home from school earlier that day and tried to knock, but something crashed against the door, so he hid in Jonathan’s room.   
Joyce resumed back to normal the next morning and Will wore long sleeves to hide the burn he got from trying make mac n cheese for dinner.   
Around midnight on Tuesday, Will woke with a start. He heard footsteps disappearing away from his room. He cracked the door open to see his mother retreating into her room and glanced down to see a bottle of whiskey shattered on the floor outside his door.   
He bent down and started picking up the glass pieces, barefoot.   
Wednesday morning, Will wandered into the kitchen, yawning. He glanced around, looking for his mom. No sign of Joyce. So, he poured himself a bowl of cereal and waited for her to reappear. He got dressed and ready for school. Still, no Joyce. He knocked on her bedroom door in case her alarm didn’t go off. The door opened beneath his knuckles and both her bed and bathroom were empty. Will sat on the couch, waiting for his mother to reappear, and watched the rain pour down in buckets. As it neared closer and closer to the start of classes, Will tapped his foot and stared at the clock. He thought about calling Hopper and asking for a ride. But he knew Hopper. Knew that he would start investigating and, while he wouldn’t find anything, Will didn’t need to upset his mother because he didn’t want to bike in the rain.   
Will snatched his backpack out of his room and wheeled his bike out to the driveway from under the porch. He started down the driveway, enjoying the feel of the rain on his face and his freedom. He hadn’t been allowed to bike to school in ages and he had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. Even in the rain, Will appreciated the trees looming over him and the new blossoms peeking out from the branches.   
He was going to be late if he didn’t hurry, Will realized, and started pedaling a little faster. Mr. Taylor still didn’t like him after the kissing incident and he didn’t need to give the man a good reason for giving him a week’s worth of detention.   
He had just made it to the main road when he heard a car rumble behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and waved a little at Max, sitting next to her brother in his car. He tried to get over to the side as much as he could, so Billy could get around him easily. But Billy slammed on the horn instead and Will jumped a little, almost toppling off the bike.   
He glanced behind him to figure out what Billy wanted and had to shielded his eyes as the headlights smashed into his face. Christ, Billy, he though, turn the brights off. Billy kept slamming on the horn but Will had the vague thought it sounded almost musical when the headlights got too close and he had a split second to see Max trying to tug on her brother’s arm while he held her against the window, one hand shoving her face into the glass, the other clutching the wheel, before the car hit him.   
Or really, it hit his back tire and later, Will was convinced this was the only reason he survived.   
He landed on his back on the hood of Billy’s car. Someone screamed as rain poured down Will’s face. The car swerved to the left, sending Will flying to the right. He hit the ground and pain blossomed on his left side as he kept rolling. He reached the grass at high speed and tried to slow himself down, but then he was flying, soaring. Until he landed at the bottom of a ditch in a pool of water and mud.   
Shit.   
He shook his head, trying to make the world stop spinning. It steadied and he squinted through the rain, trying to see if maybe Billy had stopped. When no one called his name and no one appeared over the top of the hill, Will groaned and tried to shove himself to his feet. His arms shook and he ended up flopping back into the mud.   
Shit.   
It took two more tries, but Will eventually staggered to his feet. He eyed the hill up to the road. It wasn’t that big, Will’s eyes were even to the road, but his legs and chest hurt, he was wet and freezing, and the hill was steep.  
He sighed.   
Time to face the music, kid.   
He grabbed a fistful of the long, wet grass and yanked himself up a step. Then, slid back down. He tried again and ended up in about six inches of water. It took a lot of panting and cursing, but Will managed to dig his fingers into the dirt deep enough and far enough above the ground that the dirt didn’t immediately give way. He dragged himself up and onto the road, rolled over, and stared at the grey sky about him. The rain felt wonderful on his sweaty face. He let himself relax a little, tense muscles loosening. Rain, he decided, was the best thing ever. 

“Will?” His eyes flickered open to find Callahan leaning over him in a poncho, worry pinching his eyes. “Will, is that you? God, kid, you’re covered in mud.”   
Will sat up and the world spun again but righted itself after a moment.   
Shit. He had probably missed homeroom. A glance at his watch said he had missed first period too.   
Shit, shit, shit.   
He scrambled to his feet and spun around, looking for his bike.   
“Will, you okay, kid? I think I should call an ambulance.” Callahan said but Will shook his head.   
“No, I’m fine. Just fell off my bike, that’s all.” He lied and waited for Callahan to put his radio down. Across the road, Will spotted the remains of his bike and cursed. The back wheel was completely bent and the chain was completely gone.   
“Can I give you a ride home?” Callahan said and waved at his police car, lights flashing.   
“School?” Will said and Callahan laughed.   
“How about home so you can shower and get some of that mud off and then I’ll give you a ride to school, okay?” He said. Will nodded and Callahan helped him load his bike into the back of the truck.   
Will shivered the whole way to the house, even after Callahan turned the heat all the way up. He grinned a little at the sight of his house and raced inside while Callahan waited in the truck. He threw his clothes onto a towel on the floor and turned the shower up as hot as he could get it. Standing under the warm spray, the numbness in Will’s toes faded and he flexed his formerly stiff fingers with ease.   
He threw on clean, dry clothes and took the time to find his rain jacket in the closet before jogging out to Callahan in the truck.   
“Chief wants to talk to you, kid.” Callahan said and handed him his radio. Will frowned, wondering why Callahan had called Hopper, but shrugged and pressed the button on top.   
“Hello?” He said.   
“Hey Will.” Hopper’s voice crackled. “Heard you fell off your bike. You okay?”   
Will hesitated. Friends don’t lie, but friends also don’t get their other friend’s brother put in prison for attempted murder. And Will did technically fall off his bike, so it wasn’t a lie.   
“Yeah, I hit a rock and then slid off the road.” Will said with a little laugh that he hoped didn’t sound nervous.   
“Really? Then, how come your bike looks like it got run over?” Hopper said, a slight edge in his voice peeking out through the radio waves.   
Shit.   
Will shot a glare at Callahan for telling on Will and the police officer lifted his hands in a defensive gesture.   
“It was just a car that didn’t see me.” Will admitted, deciding it wasn’t exactly lying if he didn’t mention he knew the driver of the car.  
There was a pause and Will tensed, wondering what Hopper was thinking.   
“They stop to check on you?” Hopper said.   
“Um, no, I don’t think so.”   
“You don’t think so?”   
“Well, I rolled into this ditch and then when I climbed out, I fell asleep so they might have come back but I don’t know.” Will rushed through the sentence, praying Hopper just agreed to let Callahan drive him to school. At this point, Will wouldn’t be there much before third period.   
“Callahan, have Joyce call me.” Hopper said and Will froze. His mother had still been missing when he went inside to shower and change.   
Callahan asked if he could use the Byers’ phone to call the retail store and Will thought about saying his mother hadn’t been home when he woke up, but maybe she had just gone to work early without saying anything, so he nodded. Will waited by the door while Callahan dialed the local store’s number.   
“Yeah, this is Officer Callahan from Hawkins PD. I’m looking for Joyce Byers…Okay. Any idea where she is?... Yeah, I’ll let her know. Thanks.” Will winced as Callahan hung the phone up. The situation was spinning out of his control and Will’s stomach had twisted itself into knots. His mom would be home soon, he trusted her, and knew she had just gone somewhere, but Hopper would take this as a sign something bad was going on.   
Will had a half second to reassure himself nothing was wrong before Callahan turned to face him.   
“Your mom say anything this morning about where she was headed?” He said and Will had to force himself to shake his head. He shivered again when Callahan relayed the message to Hopper and the world tipped when Hopper said he was coming over.  
Vaguely, he heard Callahan ask if he was okay and Will’s nodded reflexively before stumbling over to the couch. The shivering was back and his ribs throbbed suddenly when he sat down. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, letting the familiar scent of home calm his trembling limbs. It didn’t work and he kept shivering. He listened to Callahan’s boots on the floor, wandering through the house. Probably looking for signs of neglect. Will thought about telling him to stop, he wouldn’t find anything, but then Will’s ribs throbbed again and he decided to stay still.   
He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he woke up when Hopper shook his knee gently.   
Will winced when he sat up, but Hopper didn’t notice, so he rubbed his eyes clear and braced himself for the barrage of questions headed his way.   
Except Hopper grabbed his arm and flipped it over so Will’s forearm faced the ceiling. Will frowned and tracked Hopper’s gaze to the large, red burn about two inches below his wrist. It had blistered and then popped the day before, so clear liquid oozed out of the injury.   
Shit. He had forgotten about that when he got dressed.   
“Will.” Hopper said and Will tried to tug his arm away, but Hopper’s hand just tightened around his wrist.   
“It’s fine, Hopper. I was just trying to make dinner and I accidently burned myself.” Will rushed to say. Hopper let go of his arm and Will tucked the offending limb against his stomach, still shivering.   
“You got any other injuries I should know about?” Hopper said. Will bit his lip, thinking about the cuts on the bottom of his feet from the previous night’s shattered glass and his throbbing ribs. Nothing Hopper needed to know about though.   
Will shook his head. Hopper gave him an unconvinced look, but changed the subject.   
“Your mom say anything about going somewhere today?” He said. Will shook his head again.   
“How come she didn’t drop you off at school this morning?” Hopper said and Will looked away, his teeth sinking into his lip. He couldn’t tell Hopper she had just disappeared. He would take Will away again for sure and, this time, it wouldn’t make any sense. His mom had gone to therapy. She was fine.   
“She didn’t say why.” Will said. Hopper wasn’t technically a member of the party so lying to him couldn’t be that bad. Still, Will shifted on the couch when Hopper fixed a wordless glare on him.   
“Everything is fine. She just went somewhere. She’ll be back later.” Will said with a frown. Hopper mimicked the gesture before turning to Callahan.   
“Start a search for Joyce Byers. I’m taking him to the ER.” He said. Callahan left while Will straightened up, but the pain in his ribs forced him to lean back against the couch.   
“What? Why?” He said, ignoring Hopper’s concerned look.   
“That’s an untreated second-degree burn on your arm, you won’t stop shivering after falling asleep for God knows how long in the rain, and, judging by the fact you can’t sit up, you’re not telling me all your injuries.” Hopper snapped. Will sunk into the couch and mumbled about injuring his ribs when he fell off his bike.   
“Okay.” Hopper said. “Which brings up the fact you tried to lie to me about getting hit by a car.”   
“Why does that matter? My mom wasn’t driving the car.” Will said. Hopper sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.  
“Look kid, I know you’re trying to protect your mom.” He said and Will looked away again until Hopper shifted so he was looking Will in the eye again. “But I can’t help her unless I know what’s been going on. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me you’re hurt.”   
Will shook his head. “We’re fine. We don’t need any help.” He insisted. Hopper raised an eyebrow.   
“Tell you what?” He said. “You let me see the bottom of your feet and if nothing’s wrong, I’ll give you a ride to school and drop the whole subject.”   
Will glared at him. Hopper knew. Somehow, Hopper knew Will had cleaned up broken glass again. And Will hated him for it. Hated he knew and that he hadn’t just ignored the issue like he could have. Like he should have.   
Didn’t he understand Will wanted to stay with his mom? Didn’t he know Will just wanted things to go back to the way they were before?  
“Fuck off.” He said and crossed his arms across his chest, ignoring the pain the movement inflicted. Hopper didn’t move, just gave him a look close to sympathy. Will’s muscles tightened. It would have been better if Hopper got mad. Then, Will could scream and yell as much as he wanted.   
“I told you to go away.” He said but Hopper shook his head. Will thought about kicking him, but settled for fixing a glare at the floor and a frown on his face.   
“Will-.” A car engine cut Hopper off. Will grinned when he spotted his mother’s car through the window.   
“Told you everything was fine.” He said but Hopper didn’t respond, just stood up and planted himself between Will and the front door.   
Will’s smile faded.   
“Hopper? What the hell are you doing in my house?” Joyce said, her gaze flickering to Will. “Did you call him?” She added, a frown embedding itself on her face. Will shrunk back into the couch despite his protesting ribs and shook his head.   
“Callahan found Will on the side of the road. Looked like a car hit him while he was riding his bike to school.” Hopper said, drawing Joyce’s attention away from Will.   
“Oh my god.” Joyce stumbled forward toward Will, who tensed but didn’t move away from his mother as she cupped his face in one hand and scanned his body for injuries.   
“I’m fine, Mom. Just a little banged up.” He said with a small smile. She was wearing the same sweater and jeans as yesterday and her hair was messy but she still smelled like mint and perfume.   
Joyce turned to Hopper. “I can take it from here.” She said.   
“Look at his arm.” Hopper replied. Will pressed his burnt arm against his stomach. Luckily, his mother didn’t even glance at him.   
“Don’t tell me how to parent my kid.” She said. “And, unless you have a warrant, get out of my house.”   
Hopper shook his head, rubbing his face with one hand.  
“Don’t make me play this game, Joyce.” He said. “I’ll win.”   
Joyce smirked. “This isn’t a game, Hopper. It’s my family. Now, get out.”   
Hopper stared, almost confused for a moment. Then, when Joyce kept glaring at him, he nodded slowly, promised to come back with a warrant, and left.   
Will stared at his mother.   
“Mom?” He said. Joyce ignored him, just staring at the door, muttering indecipherably to herself.   
“Mom?” Will repeated. “Should I go to school?”   
“Go pack a bag.” Joyce said, ignoring Will’s question.   
“What?” He said. Joyce turned back around to face him, her brown eyes numb and dull.   
“We’re leaving. Go pack a bag.” She said.   
“Where are we going? For how long?” Will said, forcing himself to sit up and perch on the edge of the couch.   
Joyce sighed. “Awhile. No more questions.” She said and started walking down the hall.   
Will stood up, gasping a little at the pain in his ribs, and had to steady himself using the couch.   
“Mom, I have school, how can I-?”   
“I said, no more questions!” Joyce snarled over her shoulder. Will flinched but Joyce ignored him and slammed her bedroom shut behind her.


	13. Chapter 13

Will watched his mother dissolve in front of him while they drove away from Hawkins. At first, she was just jittery, flinching and checking over her shoulder every few minutes. She would scream if he tried to talk or another car cut her off on the road, but for the most part, she seemed under control.   
He woke up in the car on Thursday morning when the car jolted to a start. Joyce gripped the wheel with white knuckles and muttered to herself, jerking the wheel every so often to switch lanes seemingly at random. For the most part, Will couldn’t tell what she was saying. Sometimes, she would glance over at him, frown, shake her head, and then return her gaze to the road. Other times, she would sing along to a song only she could hear. Will focused on the road signs, tracking their progress through Indiana, Ohio, and Pennsylvania. It was the farthest east he had ever been. Farthest he had ever been away from Hawkins really.   
He fell asleep around dinner and woke up when Joyce slammed her door shut as she exited. He sat up, now used to the pain in his ribs, so it didn’t distract him from staring at the darkness around them. It reminded him a little of the Upside Down, the way the trees loomed over them, somehow making the darkness more encompassing.   
A farmhouse sat in front of the car. A light flicked on downstairs and the door opened, illuminating a petite figure in a long dress. His mother practically sprinted toward her and they hugged. Will stared as his mother pointed at the car and then entered the house. She hadn’t even said anything to him.   
He climbed out of the car slowly and leaned against the door as a woman approached. Her long, grey hair shivered behind her as she walked, barefoot and wearing a white night gown.   
“Hello, Will. My name is Ms. Addie. Your mother is a friend of mine. Why don’t you come inside?” She said. Her voice slithered across the cold air and Will shivered.  
“Why are we here?” He said.   
Ms. Addie smiled. “You’ve been having a hard time lately, back in Hawkins?” She said and Will shrugged.   
“Well, this is a fresh start of sorts.”   
Will frowned and tried to shove the anxiety in his stomach away.   
“You mean, we’re living here? Permanently?”   
Ms. Addie smiled again. “Of course. This is your new home, Will.” She said.   
Shit.   
Will walked as fast as his ribs would let him, ignoring Ms. Addie’s questions and barging through the farmhouse door as loudly as he could.   
Old, he thought. The house was old and rickety. The stairs looked like they would fall down if anyone stepped on them. The floor creaked under his feet. He ignored Ms. Addie’s demand to take off his shoes and stomped down the narrow hallway and into a large kitchen with an even bigger fire crackling in a fireplace that took up most of the wall.   
His mother sat at a massive rectangular table, surrounded on each side by older women, all with hair down to their waists and white night gowns.   
“Mom!” He said. “What the hell is this?”   
The women turned to stare at him, stunned. His mother looked away for a moment before mimicking their glares.   
“This is a fresh start, Will. And I expect you to behave yourself.” Joyce said.   
“What about Hawkins? My friends? Your job?” Will said. “What about when Jonathan comes back?”   
His mother flinched at the mention of his brother.   
“Jonathan is no longer a part of this family.” She recited. “He made his decision.”   
Will snorted. “I think it was your decision that he had to react to.” He said.   
Joyce opened her mouth to respond, face bright red and knuckles white against the dark wood of the table.   
“I think that’s enough for tonight.” Ms. Addie’s voice slid through the kitchen. Will turned around and glared. Ms. Addie kept her gaze light and airy but she dangled his mother’s car keys in her hands.   
“Will needs some time to adjust, Joyce. Don’t take what he says to heart.” She said, her eyes locked on Will’s as her hand twitched and the keys flew into the fire.  
Shit.   
Will resisted the urge to snarl and just clenched his fists.   
“I’m leaving.” He said and spun towards the door. Except a hulking figure blocked his way. He had to tilt his head back to stare at the man glaring down at him.   
“Will, this is Mr. Lawrence.” Ms. Addie said. “He will be your guardian while you stay here.”   
Will snorted and crossed his arms across his chest. “You mean my prison guard?” He said.   
“Guardian.” Mr. Lawrence said, his voice just as smooth and slippery as Ms. Addie’s. Will turned to his mother.   
“What about my mom? I don’t need a guardian.” He said, hating the desperate edge to his voice.   
“In this family, children are raised separately from their parents.” The woman on his mother’s right said. “I’m Ms. Karen.” She added without a smile.   
“To prevent unnatural bonds from forming that might conflict with the family’s best interests.” The other woman said. She was younger than the rest of them, he realized. Maybe a few years older than Jonathan. Her dark hair only hung slightly past her shoulders and she shifted uncomfortably under his glower. Her belly bulged against her dress.   
“I’m Ms. Ivy.” She said with a soft smile that didn’t reach her eyes.   
“I take it Mr. Lawrence is the lucky father?” Will said with a nod at her stomach.  
Ms. Karen gasped almost theatrically and his mother buried her face into her hands. Ms. Ivy paled and wrapped her arms around her stomach almost protectively. Will started rolling his eyes but the movement ended abruptly when Mr. Lawrence shoved him forward, toward Ms. Addie and the fire. Will stumbled, ribs on fire, and had to grab the wall to keep from tumbling into the fire. Mr. Lawrence’s hand wrapped itself around the back of his neck, fingertips playing with his wind pipe so he could only get sporadic bursts of air as his face was shoved toward the fire. He tried to rip the fingers off his neck but the movement just made Mr. Lawrence grab his legs and lift him into the air so he was dangling over the fire.   
“Apologize to Ms. Ivy and Mr. Lawrence, Will.” Ms. Addie said in the same slippery voice that traced across the air like it was made of glass.   
Will spoke without thinking, without really feeling the heat searing his face and forcing sweat to dribble down his temples.   
“Fuck off.” He said.   
“Mr. Lawrence.” Ms. Addie said and Will felt the hand around his neck loosen so he dropped a little closer to the flames.   
“Y-you said he needed time to adjust.” Joyce’s voice stumbled across the room. It made Will’s stomach churn, how difficult it seemed to be for his mother to defend him.   
“Excuse me?” Ms. Addie said.  
“It’s his, his first night. Please…” Joyce said. Silence. Will started counting, eyes squeezed shut, tensing for the inevitable blast of heat.   
“He’s old enough to know not to disrespect family members like that.” Ms. Karen said.   
“Indeed. But Joyce is right. I did say Will needed time to adjust.” She said, sounding like she wished she hadn’t.   
“And time he will get.” She concluded. “Put him in the cellar.”   
Will almost cried with relief when Mr. Lawrence dragged his face away from the heat. Ms. Addie’s gnarled bare feet stared up at him as Mr. Lawrence carried him across the room, past a series of rickety chairs. Karen stood up and walked over and a door creaked open. Will had half a second to stare down into the darkness before Mr. Lawrence swung him back a little and he realized what was about to happen.   
“Wait!” He yelled but then he flew into chilly air. He barely had time to notice the cold before he hit the stairs and rolled the rest of the way down, yelping as he hit each step.   
He finally came to a stop on cement floor. He couldn’t see anything, just darkness but he could feel blood trickling into his eye and down his knees and back.   
His mother screamed overhead and he waited for her to rip open the door, rescue him, and take him home. He wouldn’t even be mad at her. She couldn’t have known.   
But the silky hiss of Ms. Addie’s voice silenced his mother and after a little while, he heard footsteps disappearing from the kitchen.   
Will thought about climbing up the stairs and running away, but just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard the unmistakable jangle of chains and a lock clicking into place.   
Shit.


	14. Chapter 14

Will decided to keep track of the days by trying to remember how many times the footsteps overhead appeared and disappeared, presumably signaling a meal. But he kept falling asleep without warning, so he lost track after only two ‘meals’. The crack of light beneath the door did little to help since they seemed to keep the lights on at all times. He heaved himself up the steps once, to inspect the door and the lock, but not a moment after he reached the final step, panting, the door opened and he caught a glimpse of his mother’s stunned gaze before Mr. Lawrence’s boot implanted itself into his chest and sent him back down the stairs again.   
He spent most of his time exploring the basement. After several large, furry creatures ran over his feet, he tried to stay away from where he thought the corners were and stuck to the middle of the cellar. Mostly, he could only find boxes of water bottles that he drank greedily. Eventually, he found granola bars that tasted awful, like they had been sitting in the dark and dust for half a decade. He even grinned a little when he found a whole box full of heavy blankets and made a small nest at the foot of the stairs to sit and sleep on.   
Sometimes, he caught snippets of conversation. Mostly about the next meal or chickens. There were other people, people he hadn’t met. More men, one with a heavy New York accent, and a several more women. He even heard a baby crying a few times and, once, his mother trying to soothe it back to sleep. He covered his ears after that incident until he was sure the child had stopped screaming.   
He cried too. And screamed. Until Ms. Addie’s voice cut through the cellar door, promising him a visit from Mr. Lawrence if he didn’t shut up. So, he bit his lip instead and let the blood drizzle down his throat like burning cough syrup.

“Will, Ms. Addie says you come upstairs now.” Ms. Ivy’s soft voice broke him out of his sleep and he sat up, the blanket sliding off his shoulders.   
He had to shield his eyes as light streamed down the stairs. But he didn’t hesitate to scramble up the stairs blind. He had to keep his eyes down, but he couldn’t hear anyone else in the kitchen. Ms. Ivy guided him to a chair and he buried his face into his arms to protect his eyes from the awful light.   
“How are you feeling?” Ms. Ivy said and Will ignored her. “Hungry? Would you like to take a bath?”   
“Go away.” He said and felt her stiffen beside him.   
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Ms. Ivy said without any humor in her voice. Will tensed when he realized his mistake and nodded into his arms.   
“I’ve been instructed to prepare you for your work and explain the family rules.” She said and Will snorted.   
“This isn’t a family, Ivy.” He said. She sighed.   
“First rule, you must refer to our group as a ‘family’ and all family members with their proper prefixes and first names.” Ms. Ivy replied.   
Will decided silence was his best option and just nodded.   
“Second rule, you respect every family member equally.” Ms. Ivy continued. “Third rule, you obey Ms. Addie’s word because she is our Savior and if you don’t-.”  
“I get put in the basement.” Will finished.   
“You burn.” Ms. Ivy corrected.   
Will picked his head up and squinted at her, waiting for the punch line. She glanced at him and then gave a pointed look at the fire.   
Shit.   
“Isn’t this crazy to you? Don’t you know this is some cult and Ms. Addie is a deranged psychopath?” He said. Ms. Ivy frowned, blushing a little.   
“Ms. Addie is our Savior.” She recited, then lowered her voice. “And my mother, so you better keep your mouth shut.”   
Will stared but stayed silent until Ms. Ivy’s eyes lightened and she released another soft smile. She stood up and picked up a basket of dull clothes from the floor.  
“Wait.” Will said, eyes widening a little and staring at her deflated stomach. “Where’s the baby?”   
Ms. Ivy’s smile died, but she didn’t glare at Will like he had expected.   
“Mr. Laurie is with his guardian, Ms. Joyce.” She said softly. Will blinked.   
“My mom-.” He started.  
“Ms. Joyce.” Ms. Ivy corrected and Will ignored her.   
“-is supposed to raise your baby.” He finished.   
“Mr. Laurie is not my baby. He is the family’s baby and Ms. Addie thought raising him would better incorporate Ms. Joyce into the family.” Ms. Addie said.   
Make her attached, Will realized. They gave her the baby so she would never leave unless she took it with her and spent the rest of her life on the run from kidnapping charges.   
Shit.   
“You’re all batshit crazy.” He said.   
“That does not sound very respectful, Mr. Will.” Mr. Lawrence said from behind Will and Will flinched. “Still adjusting, I suppose.” Mr. Lawrence added.   
“I haven’t had a chance to explain his work yet.” Ms. Ivy said. Will noticed her press shaking hands behind her back but decided not to comment.   
“Not a problem. I will explain.” Mr. Lawrence said.   
“Ms. Addie said I should be the one-.”  
“Ms. Addie does not know your incompetence like I do. Now, leave.” Mr. Lawrence said and Ms. Addie scuttled away. Will tensed as Mr. Lawrence took her seat.   
Red hair ran down the sides of his face, joining together to form a scraggly beard. A loose-fitting shirt did little to hide the muscles under his skin and he stared at Will with blank eyes.   
“That didn’t sound very respectful either.” Will said.   
Mr. Lawrence smirked.   
“I will burn your tongue out if you keep talking like that.” He said with a smile, but his eyes said he wasn’t joking. Will flicked his gaze to the floor.   
“Good. Now, onto your work.” 

Will’s work consisted mostly of hard labor and farm work. Move that, carry this, feed that animal, clean this stall. Mr. Lawrence had an endless list of chores for Will and the other men on the farm. None of them were close in age to Will and none of them acknowledged his existence except to help carry the heavier items without even looking at him. Will ignored them for the most part, too busy planning.   
He needed to get out of here, call Hopper, and then have him come and get Will’s mom. The plan required a phone and as far as Will could tell, there weren’t any on the farm. It also required privacy, something Will never had since Mr. Lawrence never left Will’s side. He made Will bathe with the door open and he slept in front of Will’s bedroom door on a cot so Will couldn’t open it without waking him up.   
It didn’t stop Will from trying.   
One morning, two weeks after being released from the basement, Mr. Lawrence told him to feed the chickens. Will nodded silently, as always, and walked toward the chicken coop around the side of the house. As he walked, one of the dogs, Spencer, followed him, hoping for some scrap of breakfast Will had a tendency of saving for him. As they reached the coop, Will glanced around. No one in sight. He took a deep breath, grateful his injuries had all healed, and threw some bits of bacon into the coop before opening the door for the dog to run inside. Barking and squawking seared the air and Will rushed to slam the door close and take off for the road.   
There were no bikes or cars on the farm as far as Will knew, so he just had to outrun Mr. Lawrence, who, hopefully, wouldn’t go searching for him for at least a few minutes.   
He swung right out of the gravel driveway, aiming for the tree line across the road. Just as his foot hit the bed of pine needles built up on the side of the road, a gun roared behind him and pain seared across his back. He hit the ground with a scream. His back collapsed when he tried to scramble to his feet. Panting with tears drizzling down his face, Will planted his hands into the dirt and pushed himself up into a push up position, biting his lip to keep from screaming again. He had one foot underneath him when something slammed into his back, knocking the air from his lungs so he couldn’t even make a noise as agony ripped up and down his spine. Pinned to the ground, Will looked over his shoulder to see Mr. Lawrence with a shot gun aimed at his head. Will froze, his last breath caught in his throat.   
“That was buckshot.” Mr. Lawrence said, pressing down on Will’s back with his boot so Will had to scream. “Not lethal at long-range, but I bet it could do some real damage to that pretty head of yours this close.”  
His boot lifted but Will didn’t have time to try and run before one of the other farmhands wrangled his arms behind his back and tied them together with rope. Mr. Lawrence hauled Will to his feet, shotgun still aimed at his head.  
Will took a step and fell over from the pain in his back. The farmhand dragged him to his feet but Will just toppled over again, gasping for breath.   
“Drag him.” Mr. Lawrence said. Will watched through tears as the farm hand hesitated. Mr. Lawrence leveraged the gun at his face and gave a pointed look at Will’s legs.   
“No, please, don’t…” Will said as the man moved to grabbed his feet. Will kicked out, struggling to get away but every movement sent spasms up his back. Then, Mr. Lawrence fired the gun and dirt sprayed over Will’s face and neck, effectively locking his muscles in place when he realized the consequences of struggling.   
He let the farmhand grab his legs and kept a glare fixated on Mr. Lawrence until the first tug on his legs, dragging his injured back against the ground, sent him into a screaming, crying fit.   
The walk to the farmhouse was a blur of tears and blood gushing down his back. His hands caught on a large rock in the dirt road and the farmhand jerked him forward, causing one of Will’s wrists to crack. The farmhand dragged him across the front steps, slamming Will’s head against the steps as he went.   
When they reached the kitchen, the farmhand heaved him onto the table and Will spotted a blood trail on the floor. Good, he thought. Make them clean up his blood.   
He stared at the ceiling, ignoring Ms. Ivy’s questions directed at Mr. Lawrence and Ms. Karen’s cold comments about how Will should have known better. When she leaned over his face to inform him of this, he launched a bloody glob of saliva at her face and grinned when she reared back, screeching.   
The grin faded when his mother’s voice split the room.   
“Will? What happened?” She said. Will gasped a little at the familiarity of her voice. He couldn’t see her, but he could picture her wide brown eyes, simultaneously concerned for him and angry at his attackers.   
“Mr. Will tried to run away and killed several chickens in the process.” Mr. Lawrence announced.   
“What?” Joyce said and a spark of hope burned in Will’s stomach. Maybe his  
mom would realize how crazy their situation was. Maybe she would get him out of here and they could go home to Hawkins. His chest ached at the idea and he held his breath, waiting for her to start yelling insults at Mr. Lawrence.   
“Why would he do that?” She said. Will squeezed his eyes shut as tears leaked out of the corners.   
“He’s possessed by the devil.” Ms. Addie interjected, her bare feet drumming across the floor.   
Will almost laughed. It wasn’t that far off from his situation last fall.   
“He’s just adjusting.” Joyce said.   
“It’s been three weeks. That’s not adjusting. That’s the devil.” Ms. Karen said.   
“You mentioned him behaving differently before you joined the family, didn’t you?” Ms. Addie said.   
There was a pause and Will waited for his mother to say that his earlier behavior had nothing to do with the devil.   
“No. I mean, yes. But not because of the devil. There was a lot going on-.”   
“Don’t let past bonds hurt this family.” Ms. Addie interrupted and then lowered her voice. “Think of Mr. Laurie and the influence a diseased older brother could have on him.” She said.   
“You said yourself you were worried he was…” Ms. Karen dropped her voice to a whisper, “queer.”   
Will almost rolled his eyes, except he spotted Mr. Lawrence staring at him, the shadows caused by the fire illuminating a cold smile on his face. Will’s stomach curled and he wished he could hide under a bed.   
“He kissed a boy at school, but-.”   
“Mr. Lawrence, the branding iron please.” Ms. Addie curt his mother off. Will watched Mr. Lawrence’s smile transform into a smirk as he turned toward the fire. Will tried to roll off the table, but hands appeared on his arms and legs, pressing him against the table. Ms. Karen approached with scissors and cut his shirt off. Will thrashed, trying to escape but failing to get any of the hands to even budge. He screamed curses and insults, anything he could come up with. But when Mr. Lawrence turned back around, a glowing branding iron in hand, Will did the only thing he could think of.   
“Mom, please.” He said. “Please don’t let them do this.”   
“It looks like someone has tried to burn the devil out of you before.” Ms. Addie said, a finger tracing the burn mark on his stomach from last fall and another on his arm.  
“Mr. Lawrence, don’t stop until we’re sure this is successful.” She said.   
“Mom! You can’t let them do this! Please!” Will said, his voice cracking. Mr. Laurie started wailing and he heard his mother shushing him, singing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ under her breath.   
Mr. Lawrence took a step forward and the whole world seemed to quake.   
“Mom, please, please don’t let them-.” Will’s plea was cut off by his own screech as the branding iron dug into his side. 

He woke up in darkness, hands still bound behind his back. He titled his head enough to vomit on the ground.   
His side throbbed, sending angry lightning bolts of pain through his body. His back responded with similar messages and for a moment, he thought he was caught in a rainstorm of bullets shredding his body.   
Just buckshot, he thought distantly and chuckled. But the movement caused so much pain he had to vomit again.   
He closed his eyes. For so long, he had been so focused on leaving, this was the first time he thought that maybe he wouldn’t leave. Maybe he would spend the rest of his life stuck in darkness with nothing but stale food and water to live off of.  
Or maybe they would burn him to death first.  
Will screamed until he ran out of oxygen.   
Tremors flitted through his body and over the next few hours, or maybe days, he didn’t know anymore, his body swung from freezing to burning. He cycled through periods of crying, sleeping, and staring into the darkness while forcing silence on his mind. Bits of conversation floated through the ceiling, but he didn’t pay attention to them. He needed a break from reality. It hurt too much. So, he told himself stories. Stolen from old comic books, he twisted the endings or put Superman and the Avengers in the same story. Bur, inevitably, his mind turned on him and the hero didn’t save the day, the bad guy won, and Will ended back up in the cellar.  
They had said he had been here a month. He wondered if his friends were still looking for him or if enough time had passed, they assumed he was gone. If the Upside Down had swallowed him up. He wondered if Hopper had declared him dead or tossed his file in the back of a drawer somewhere. If Jonathan even knew he was missing. Or maybe he wasn’t missing. Maybe because his mother had taken him, he was just gone. Maybe no one had even looked for him.   
Overhead, glass shattered and Will flinched.   
“Let me see him!” At first, Will thought the screaming woman was his mother. But she sounded funny. Younger.   
“I swear to God, if you don’t let me see him, you son of a bitch, I will burn this house down!” Ms. Ivy, he realized, just as light exploded through the room and Will had to clench his eyes shut and turn away.   
Footsteps roared down the steps.   
“Where is she?” Ms. Ivy said, shaking Will’s shoulders. He gasped and tried to shove her away, but she just shook him harder. “Where did she take my baby?”   
Will shook his head. He couldn’t put the meaning of the words together in his head. Something about a baby?   
“That bitch, Joyce, took my son. Now, you tell me where she is!” Ms. Ivy screeched.   
Joyce. His mom. The baby.   
Shit.   
“I-I don’t know.” It was the first sentence he had uttered in what felt like forever and he knew it didn’t sound right. Knew his coarse throat strangled the syllables into mumbling. Somehow, talking still cleared his head a little. Gave him something to focus on outside of the pain racking through his body.   
“Of course, you know! She’s your mother!” Ivy said.   
“I don’t. Didn’t know she left.” Will said. Left him to rot in a cellar, he realized and almost screamed again.   
Ivy dropped him back to the floor and he groaned when his back smacked against the cement.   
“Useless.” She said and stormed back up the steps, the door slamming shut behind her.   
Will waited until he heard the chains rattle and the lock click into place to release the sob building in his chest.


	15. Chapter 15

A month, Hopper thought, staring at the picture of Will attached to his missing file, a whole fucking month and they had found nothing. He had tried tracking Joyce’s car, tried searching for a Will Byers in other schools, tried contacting and hunting down every relative he could find. He had even found Jonathan in Nebraska.   
Still nothing.  
It would appear Joyce and Will had packed up in the six hours it had taken for Hopper to get a warrant and return to the Byers’ house and then disappeared off the face of the earth. He had, of course, ruled out the Upside Down early on. El had done many searches for Will. She just said he was in the dark. Nothing but darkness. Recently, she had spotted him outside in a field or a barn. But nothing to identify his location. Hopper had even taken El around to every farm in a three-hour radius of Hawkins to see if she recognized any.   
Nothing.   
Hopper sighed and slammed the file closed. He glanced at his watch. Almost two in the morning.   
El was staying with the Wheeler’s. They had gotten into a fight about two days ago over something Hopper couldn’t remember and she had disappeared out the door, which then wouldn’t open for twenty minutes. Karen Wheeler had called to let Hopper know El was at her house, but Hopper still hadn’t forgiven his daughter for scaring him, so he was happy to let her stay away for a bit.   
It wasn’t like they had been having a delightful time anyway. Anger and fear pervaded the cabin’s air, making them both short-tempered. The number of windows El had exploded was only comparable to the number of times Hopper had slammed the cabin door behind him during a fight to stand on the porch for a few minutes and smoke a cigarette.   
The crew wasn’t doing much better. As far as he knew, no one but Max was speaking to Lucas and El couldn’t tolerate anyone besides Mike for very long. She had managed to start failing two classes and get into multiple fights in the last month.   
Hopper stood up to stretch and fumbled around his pockets for his box of cigarettes. He dug it out and cursed when the empty box stared back.   
Great. Just perfect.   
He tugged on his jacket and had just left the office when he heard his phone ring. Glancing at his watch again to make sure it was in fact two o’clock and someone was in fact calling him, Hopper frowned. Maybe something had happened at the Wheeler’s?   
Sighing, he unlocked his office door and crammed the phone between his ear and shoulder just after the last ring.   
The dial tone greeted him and he rolled his eyes before slamming the phone down.   
Weird.   
He turned away, wondering if there were any stores with cigarettes open this late, when the phone rang again. This time, he picked up after the second ring.   
“Who the hell is this?” Hopper said.   
“Adeline and Lawrence Thompson.” Joyce Byers said. Hopper pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it.   
“Is this some sort of joke?” He said, ignoring the way his chest had lightened. He couldn’t hope. Not after a month of hoping before crashing back to reality.   
“No.” Joyce said. “Adeline and Lawrence Thompson. Find them.”   
“Where are you? And where’s Will? I want to talk to him.” Hopper said. It was definitely Joyce’s voice, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to hope. Too dangerous.   
“Did you get the names? Adeline and-.”  
“Lawrence Thompson, yeah, I got it. Now, tell me where Will is?” Hopper said and froze when a baby started crying in the background. “Is that a baby?”   
“Find them. Soon.” Joyce said and hung up.  
“Joyce?” The dial tone replied and Hopper cursed. Cursed Joyce Byers and her son and the whole town of Hawkins fuckin’ Indiana.   
He kicked the desk before getting to work finding an address for Adeline and Lawrence Thompson, still refusing to hope. 

He didn’t tell El about the phone call at first. She didn’t need to crash back to reality with him when it turned out Joyce had misled him.   
Still, when he found out Adeline and Lawrence Thompson were real people with a real address in Pennsylvania, he drove over to the middle school and waited outside his truck for her to appear.   
She glared at him when she spotted him and started walking away, towards Nancy’s awaiting car. Before he could intervene, Mike spotted him and cocked his head, silently asking the only question that mattered.   
Hopper shrugged in response. He didn’t want to give anyone false hope but he needed El on his side and if that meant Mike tagged along, he could live with that.   
He smirked a little when Mike dragged El by the arm towards Hopper. She resisted at first, but he said something and suddenly they were sprinting across the school yard, shoving people out of their way to get to him.   
He started the truck as soon as they got in and pulled out of the pick-up line.   
“Will?” El said once she climbed into the passenger seat. Her hands clenched against her knees and Hopper could see Mike bouncing his leg in the back seat.   
He sighed. False hope was hard to avoid.   
“I don’t know.” He said. “Joyce called last night and gave me two names but wouldn’t say anything else.”   
“Who?” Mike said.   
“Where?” El said.   
“Adeline and Lawrence Thompson in middle-of-nowhere Pennsylvania.” Hopper said, stepping on the gas a little.

As the longest car drive of his life inched past, Hopper found himself caught up in the kids’ false hope. He started picturing finding Will. At first, he was relieved because any situation involving Will safe and alive was fine with him.   
Then again, there was no guarantee Will was safe or alive.   
Once he started picturing finding Will’s body in a shallow grave in the Thompson’s backyard, Hopper decided to focus on the road and drive faster.   
The kids stayed silent the whole trip and he joined them, unable to talk past the gnawing worry overtaking his body.   
They pulled up in front of a farmhouse long after the sunset. He glanced at El and Mike, wondering how in the hell he would convince them to stay in the truck. Before he could come up with a solution, both kids climbed out of the truck and started walking toward the front door.   
“Sure, just knock on a potential kidnapper’s door and ask if they know a Will Byers. What could go wrong?” Hopper muttered and hopped out of the truck, one hand on his gun.  
“You two stay behind me.” He barked and ignored their respective glares as he took the lead. Before they reached the door, a light downstairs flicked on and the door opened, illuminating a petite figure in a long dress.   
“Who’s there?” The woman called and Hopper spotted the distinct outline of a shotgun in her hands.   
“Just the police, ma’am. Investigating a missing person’s case.” Hopper said.   
“Don’t know anything about a missing person. Now, get off my property.” She replied. Hopper’s grip tightened on his gun and waved a hand at El to keep her from throwing the gun out of the woman’s hands. They didn’t need to resort to superpowers yet.   
Emphasis on yet.   
“Ma’am, I need you to put-.”   
“Is that the police?” A young woman’s voice floated out the door and another figure appeared at the door.   
“Go back inside. They’re here about a missing person’s case. Nothing to do with us.” The older woman said.   
“They’re here about Laurie, you crazy old woman.” The younger woman said and rushed out the door. As she approached, Hopper noticed her tangled mess of dark hair and her bitten nails.   
“I’m Ivy Thompson. I called you about my son, Laurie.” She said, sticking out her hand to Hopper. He shook it tentatively, stomach already sinking. This had nothing to do with Will. Joyce had sent them on a wild goose hunt.   
“Who are they?” Ivy said, looking at Mike and El.   
“My kids…” Hopper replied automatically. “Couldn’t leave them home alone this late.”   
Ivy frowned. “Where’s your family?” She said. Before Hopper could respond, the older woman appeared, shoving her long grey hair out of her face and rounding on Ivy.   
“You called the police? What’s wrong with you?” She said, striking Ivy across the face.   
“Hey!” Hopper barked, moving to step between the two women.  
Ivy doubled over, but straightened only a moment later, wiping blood off her lip and glaring at the other woman.   
“My son is missing.” She said.   
“Are you Adeline Thompson?” Hopper interrupted, looking to the older woman, who glared at him in response.   
“Why?” She said.   
“I’m looking for Adeline and Lawrence Thompson, who live at this address. A woman named Joyce Byers-.”  
“I don’t know anyone with the name Joyce. Now, get off my property or I start shooting, starting with the little ones.” Adeline replied, aiming the shotgun at El’s head. Hopper whipped out his own gun and raised it so it was even with Adeline’s eyes.   
“Put it down, now.” He growled. Adeline glanced between him, the gun, and the unimpressed glare El had on her face.   
She lowered the shotgun.   
“Mouth breather.” El said. Hopper lowered his own weapon but kept it in his hand.   
“You said Joyce Byers called you?” Ivy said, ignoring Adeline. Hopper nodded, finally noticing the resemblance between the two women. He hadn’t seen anything about the Thompson’s having any children, never mind grandchildren, but the similarities in the nose and eyes were clear.   
“That bitch took my son.” Ivy said. Hopper blinked, remembering the baby in the background of Joyce’s phone call.   
“How old is he?”   
“Two weeks.” Ivy replied, her eyes watering a little, but she wiped them clean. “I need him back.” She said.   
“How did you know Joyce?” Hopper said.   
“Don’t say anything, Ms. Ivy.” A hulking figure appeared in the doorway and approached with slow, heavy footsteps. A thin beard outlined Lawrence Thompson’s face sharp face and even in the dim lighting, Hopper could see the muscles beneath his loose-fitting clothing.   
“You should go.” Lawrence said as he approached.   
“Yeah, we already had this conversation. Decided not to leave.” Hopper said. “Now, back to Joyce-.”   
“I said, you should go.” Lawrence repeated and Hopper didn’t have time to do anything before metal flashed in the dim lighting. He stumbled back as Lawrence swiped at his throat with a knife, but he knew he was too late.   
Before the knife got anywhere near Hopper’s skin, Lawrence soared over Hopper’s shoulder and hit the wooden fence behind them with a distinct thud.   
“Devil worshippers!” Adeline screeched, raising her shotgun. Hopper raised his gun in response, but then the shotgun jerked itself out of Adeline’s hand and disappeared into the darkness, away from them and Lawrence.   
Ivy stared at them, jaw open. Adeline just trembled. El walked forward, wiping away the blood from beneath her nose.  
“Joyce.” She said. Adeline paled and stumbled backwards, but froze when El glared at her.  
“Um, she just lived with us for awhile. She left yesterday… with my son, Laurie.” Ivy said, stumbling over her words at first and then reinforcing them at the end with a glare at Hopper.   
“Did she have her son with her?” Hopper said.   
Ivy shook her head and Hopper closed his eyes. Beside him, El’s shoulders deflated and he heard Mike curse behind him.   
False hope, he thought. Fucking false hope.   
He swallowed, trying and failing to ignore the emptiness in his chest.   
“Why does Mr. Will matter so much?” Ivy said.   
Hopper smirked to himself. Excellent question. How had he gotten so attached to a kid at one point he had barely known?   
Then, his head snapped up.   
Christ.   
He glanced at El and Mike, who had apparently noticed the same detail as him, and shared grins with each other. False hope, he thought distantly.   
“We never said her son’s name is Will.” Hopper said and Ivy blushed.   
“Joyce mentioned him to me.” Ivy said but Hopper couldn’t help feeding the small fire in his chest.   
“Yeah? She say anything about him?” Hopper said.   
“Just that he likes sports and other… boy stuff.” Ivy fumbled. “Can we get back to my son?”   
“Will sucks at sports. And he hates them.” Mike said and Ivy stared at him.  
“Joyce must have lied. So, what?” She said.   
“So, I think it’s time you let me have a look around your house.” Hopper said.   
“No.” Adeline spoke up from her spot behind her daughter. “I will not let any more devil worshippers into my home.”   
El took another step forward and Adeline scrambled back.   
“Not sure you’re going to have much of a choice there.” Hopper said and led the way across the damp grass toward the farmhouse.   
Old, he thought, staring at the narrow hallway and ancient staircase. He kept El and Mike close behind him while Ivy and Adeline followed in silence.   
“Hopper.” Mike said and pointed at a splotch of red on the floor. Hopper kneeled down and inspected it. Definitely blood.   
Will’s pale corpse in a shallow grave flashed in his mind.   
“I tripped awhile ago. Just must have missed a spot during the clean up.” Adeline said with a high-pitched laugh that ended with one look from El. Hopper stood up with narrowed eyes and his breath trapped in his throat.   
He kept walking down the hall and into a massive kitchen. To his left, embers glowed in a fireplace that overwhelmed the room. Beside him, Mike shivered and Hopper noticed the cold temperature for the first time. He frowned and kept walking, noticing a branding iron in the corner of the room. He grabbed it and weighed it in his hand for a moment before raising an eyebrow at Ivy and Adeline.   
“What’s this for?” he said, eyeing the large ‘A’ at the end.  
“Branding the cattle.” Ivy said.   
Hopper frowned.   
“You always brand the cattle indoors?” He said.   
Before Ivy or her mother could respond, something rattled and then snapped and Hopper turned in time to see El open a door off to the side of the room, a pile of chains at her feet.   
“What’s down there?” Mike said.   
“Just rations.” Adeline said, but her eyes remained on the floor.   
“El, watch them.” Hopper said and took out his flashlight before stepping past his daughter and into the darkness.   
He shivered and resisted the urge to tug the zipper of his coat up. It had to be at least ten degrees colder down here than upstairs. His flashlight searched the room, sending a variety of small critters scurrying behind the piles of boxes lining the room. It settled briefly on a pile of heavy blankets at the foot of the stairs before resting on a very still, very pale, very bloody Will Byers.   
Christ.   
Hopper half-ran, half-fell down the stairs.   
“Will?” His voice sounded soft, like if he spoke too loudly Will would disappear again. The kid didn’t move. Blood pooled around his back and a pile of vomit lay next to his head.   
Next to his burn scar from last fall, a black, charred ‘A’ smiled at Hopper.   
Christ.


	16. Chapter 16

You always brand the cattle indoors?... El, watch them…Will?   
Will frowned when he woke up with Hopper’s voice in his ear. He kept his eyes shut and focused on forcing his lungs to swallow oxygen. It had become increasingly more difficult to breathe since he last fell asleep and he knew he should be worried, but he was much more concerned about Hopper’s voice. It had sounded close. Imagined, but close.   
He wondered if he had developed powers like El, except his just made him hear people say weird shit.   
Maybe that wasn’t a superpower at all.   
“Mike, go to the truck and call an ambulance and the police!” Hopper yelled, sounding real and close. Will flinched and tried to roll away from the sound, but pain in his side and back made him gasp instead, freezing his muscles in their tensed position.   
“Hey, it’s okay, kid. Just Hopper.” A warm hand pressed lightly on his shoulder and Will shook his head.   
Hopper could not be here. He didn’t know where Will was. He could not be in the cellar.   
But the head movement irritated the wounds on the back of his head and made the whole world spin again. This time when he turned to vomit, hands helped him roll onto his side, so half of it didn’t end up on his face.   
He snapped his eyes open, but had to squint when light billowed over him. He couldn’t make out anything other than stacks of boxes in front of him and some sort of figure leaning over his shoulder, rubbing his back.   
Apparently, they were also calling his name with Hopper’s voice and he hadn’t been paying attention.   
“Will, can you hear me?” Hopper said.   
Will shook his head again. Not Hopper.   
“Okay, we’re going to get you to a hospital soon. Just hang on, kid.” Hopper said.   
Will frowned.   
“No hospital.” He said, not sure if he didn’t want to go to a hospital or he was denying the possibility of a hospital considering Hopper was just a figment of his imagination, no matter how close and real he sounded.   
Hopper snorted in a very real-Hopper-like manner.   
“Yeah, no. You’re going to a hospital.” He said, but Will had to shake his head again. There was no hospital, Hopper was not here in the cellar, and, even if he was, Will did not want to go to a hospital. Too many unfamiliar hands and harsh lights and questions. He couldn’t answer any questions. Not then and not ever.   
“No, no, no.” Will said and tried to shove Hopper’s hand off his shoulder but only succeeding in causing pain to spike all across his body and he screamed again, tears bursting from beneath his skin and mixing with the sweat already dripping down his skin.   
When he finished, he could still hear Hopper murmuring behind him, hand still brushing against his shoulder.   
“Hey, it’s okay, Will. Just breathe and try not to move.” Hopper said and, real or not, he clearly did not understand Will could not go to a hospital and answer questions.   
“No hospitals!” Will said and rolled onto his back so he could glare at the Hopper imposter.   
Except he looked a lot like Hopper, even though Will had to squint past the flashlight that Hopper moved to aim away from Will’s face.   
“Stop.” Will said, biting his lip to keep from crying.   
“Stop what?” Hopper said.   
“Stop pretending.” Will said. “Not him. Imagination.” He wasn’t sure if he was making any sense, but maybe this fake Hopper could read thoughts because it smirked a little, just like real Hopper would, and rested a very real hand on Will’s shoulder.   
“I’m not part of your imagination, kid. Your mom called, told me where you were.” He said. Will frowned.   
“Ms. Joyce left.” He said and this time, Hopper (real? fake?) frowned, but before he could reply, sirens sounded in the distance and Adeline shrieked upstairs, making Will flinch again and try to curl up in a ball.   
“No, just stay still, kid.” Hopper said, keeping one hand on Will’s shoulder and another on his legs to keep him from moving.   
“No hospital.” Will said.   
“Paramedics will be here in a minute and they’ll give you some pain meds, get you out of here, and then we’ll talk, okay?” Hopper said and Will almost nodded, except the sirens sounded again and he froze.   
He couldn’t answer their questions or handle all the needles and stares.   
“Please.” He said. “Please, no hospital.”   
Hopper sighed and hung his head.   
“Can’t do that, Will. But I’ll stay with you, okay?” He said and Will wanted to scream. He didn’t even know if this Hopper was real and now, he had to trust him to not leave him with strangers?   
“Hey, don’t worry about it, kid.” Hopper said. “If I’m not real, then the hospital isn’t it either. But if I am real and the hospital is real, then I’m not leaving you.”   
Will wanted to shake his head. He couldn’t trust this potential imposter. But that meant he was stuck in the cellar and maybe it would be better to spend the rest of his life in a fantastical delusion than a nightmare reality.   
So, he nodded, just in time for Mike’s voice to float down the stairs, directing paramedics to the cellar.   
“Going to be right here, Will.” Hopper said, shifting so he was sitting near the top of Will’s head, one hand still on his shoulder.   
The world dissolved into chaos as paramedics and police officers tumbled down the stairs with bright lights that set Will’s eyes on fires and probing hands that made him flinch. The only thing keeping him from screaming was Hopper’s calm voice, reminding him to just breathe, just focus on breathing, Will.  
Tears arrived when they moved him onto a board and his back and side seemed to convulse until something pricked his arm and the pain faded a little.   
“One, two, three.” Someone said and then Will felt himself floating, the board pressing into his back and that should have hurt, he knew that should have hurt, but somehow, it didn’t and he just stared at the ceiling as it zipped past.   
“Will, I have to talk to the police, but I’ll be back in a second.” Hopper said and then his voice disappeared. Will tried twisting around to see him but a paramedic grabbed his head, telling him to stay still.   
“Hopper?” He said. “Hopper?”   
No response. Will squirmed and tried to just focus on his breathing. Hopper had said he would be back. But he had also said he wouldn’t leave…   
Will’s chest heaved with the effort to breathe as the paramedics carried him out of the house and into the cold night. Stars, he thought, distracted by the pinpricks of light above him. Lots of stars.  
He tried glancing around again for Hopper and found nothing but unfamiliar faces that made his stomach twist.   
“He’s not breathing; he’s going into shock.” Someone said and Will tried to frown because obviously he was breathing. His mouth opened but when he tried to speak, he couldn’t get enough air to launch the words from his mouth. His arm jerked to grab at his throat and see what was wron,g but something held it in place. He wriggled, trying to get it free, but the limb didn’t respond the way he wanted it to.   
Where the hell was Hopper?  
“-slowing down. Need an oxygen mask.”   
Something covered his face and Will wanted to scream, now trying to thrash and escape whatever was holding him down.   
“-okay, kid.” Hopper. He didn’t know what the older man was saying but Will recognized his voice.   
“Breathe with me, Will.” Hopper said, a hand appearing on his head. Will tried mimicking Hopper’s deep breathing, tried forcing his chest to inflate and then deflate but every time he tried to exhale or inhale slowly, something squirmed in his brain, whispering about not enough oxygen, never enough oxygen, he was going to suffocate.   
“Slow down, kid.” Hopper said and his hand rubbed against Will’s forehead. Sirens sounded and Will flinched, curling away from Hopper’s hand and reality. He wanted out. He needed out.   
“Just the ambulance, Will. Focus on your breathing.” Hopper said but Will shook his head and kept squirming, sweat or maybe blood leaking into his eyes. He needed out. He did not want to go to the hospital. Hopper had said they would talk first but Will could feel the ambulance moving underneath him.   
He clenched his eyes shut to hide his tears as the sirens kept going but some still leaked out and he heard Hopper sigh a little.   
“It’s okay, Will.” He said and Will shook his head. This time, he opened his mouth to argue and air rushed into his lungs so he started coughing, trying to catch his breath   
“Good, Will. Just keep breathing.” Hopper said.   
“No hospital.” Will replied, trying and failing to glower at the ceiling. “Please.”   
He didn’t know why he kept saying ‘please’. It wasn’t like it had worked with Ms. J-his mom, why would it work now?   
“We’ll get you out of there as soon as possible and head home, okay?” Hopper said, prompting Will to think about the dark space under El’s bed that smelled like wood, cigarette smoke, and safety.   
He nodded and closed his eyes.   
Hopper said something but Will didn’t bother listening. He wanted to sleep anyway. 

Broken wrist. A whole slew of abrasions and cuts. Slight hypothermia paired with severe malnourishment and dehydration. Buckshot embedded in his back. A third degree burn on his ribs.   
Hopper had almost thrown up when the doctor finished listing Will’s injuries. The kid had gone into surgery two hours ago, to remove all the buckshot in his back and treat the burn, and now, Dr. Paulson stood in front of him, listing the necessary treatments and Hopper just sort of tuned out.   
He needed to hunt down Joyce and the kidnapped baby. Needed to see Will with his own eyes. Needed to find out what happened. Needed to make sure those maniacs stayed in prison forever. Needed to talk to El and Mike and make sure they knew what was happening. Needed to tell Jonathan Byers they found his brother. He should probably call the Wheeler’s too and let them know he had their son at some point.   
The world spun a little and Hopper shut his eyes, but kept nodding as the doctor talked.   
“-you and Will later.” Paulson said and Hopper opened in his eyes in time to watch the doctor walk away.   
He swallowed, rubbed his face, and wandered back to the waiting room. Mike and El sat up at his appearance.   
“He’ll be okay.” Hopper said, not sure if he was lying or not. The doctor hadn’t said anything about permanent damage as far as Hopper knew but, Christ, at some point, Will was going to break apart.   
Thinking of the way Will hadn’t believed that Hopper was real and just seemed to accept this fantasy world as a better alternative to reality in the cellar, Hopper wondered if maybe he already had.   
He sat down and tried to keep his mind occupied with other thoughts, planning everything he needed to do, sending Mike to go call his parents, and wrapping an arm around El when she leaned into his side.   
“He’ll be okay.” Hopper repeated and El nodded silently. He wondered if she doubted the idea as much as he did.   
“Family of Will Byers?” A nurse said and Hopper looked up. They followed the nurse down a series of hallways and Hopper lost track of where they were. Not that it mattered once they reached Will’s room and Hopper could see the kid’s chest moving up and down himself.   
They crowded into the room and let silence reign as they inspected the sleeping boy. He didn’t look as bad as he had in the basement, without the burn mark searing Hopper’s vision, but a bulky cast was wrapped around his forearm and for the first time, Hopper could see bruises running up and down the sides of his face. Thick bandages pressed out against the hospital gown, wrapped around Will’s back and ribs.   
“Sons of bitches.” Mike said, prompting El and Hopper to nod in agreement.   
They each took a seat, Hopper and El in chairs and Mike sitting against the wall on the floor. At one point, Hopper glanced over, expecting to see both kids dead asleep since it was almost midnight, but El met his stare with one of her own and Mike kept his eyes on his best friend, hands twisting in his lap.   
Mrs. Wheeler showed up the next morning. Hopper had to sheepishly explain why he had temporarily kidnapped her son, but she seemed mostly unbothered by it and just hugged all three of them before disappearing to get donuts and coffee. Smart woman.   
The kids and Karen left for lunch around noon and Hopper was just starting to think about maybe taking a nap when he glanced up from his newspaper to see Will’s brown eyes staring at him, head cocked to the side a little in confusion.   
“Hey, kid.” Hopper said with a grin. The doctors had said Will would wake up, but it was still nice to see him conscious again.   
“You’re not real.” Will replied. Hopper’s grin faded. He had hoped sleep would help Will realize what was going on, but apparently not.  
“Will-.”   
“Not real.” Will insisted and settled back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling, as if waiting to wake up back in the cellar.   
“Your mom called me.” Hopper said. “She gave me Adeline and Lawrence’s names and I got their address and drove out here with El and Mike.”   
But Will kept shaking his head.   
“Ms. Joyce…my mom left.” He said.  
“Yeah, and then she called me.” Hopper said. Will still seemed confused though.   
“Not real.” He repeated. Hopper sighed and rubbed his face.   
“What makes you think this isn’t real?” He said. Will’s face twisted as he thought.   
“I don’t want it to be real.” He finally settled on after a moment of silence. Hopper frowned at the unexpected answer.   
“Why?” Hopper said.   
Will stared at Hopper with empty eyes, like he had tucked away every possible emotion to keep any from leaking out.   
“Reality hurts. I just want out.” He said and Hopper suppressed a shiver.


End file.
